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RICHMOND, VA. : 

J. W. Randolph & English, Main Street. 

1887, 




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THE LIBRARY 
OF CONGRESS 

WASHINGTON 


OOPYRIGHT 


BY 

Mildhed Trickett 


188 7 . 




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Preface. 


I was induced to reprint these Letters with the hope 
that they might give as much pleasure to new readers 
as they did to those who read them on their first ap¬ 


pearance. 















































I 










Contents 


Falls of the Rhine to Stuttgart____ 9 

From Stuttgart to Munich and Verona,__ 14 

Venice, Queen of Beauty,____ 18 

Wanderings in Florence,_ 23 

Art Studies in Florence,_ '32 

From Florence to Rome,_ 35 

Carnival at Rome,- 4? 

Height of the Carnival,____ 49 

Under Italian Sky, __ 54 

From Genoa to Monte Carlo,_ __ (50 

From Beaulieu to Paris and London,__ G9 

A Trip up the Thames,___ 74 

Scenes about Coventry,- 81 

Summering in Scotland,__ _ 83 

From Scotland to Havre, Rouen and Paris,--- 96 

Visit to Fontainebleau,_ 98 

From Paris to Nice,_ __ 103 

A Charming Driving Tour,- 107 

Sight-Seeing in Beautiful Florence,- 119 

Florence,_ _ 126 

From Florence to Milan and Stuggart,___ 129 

From Heidelberg to Cologne,__,_ 137 

Cologne to Amsterdam,_ 140 

Amsterdam to Antwerp. 142 































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t-0F 




FALLS OF THE RHINE TO STUTTGART. 

September , 1884. 

H OW glad we were to get to the Schweizerhof—Falls of 
the Rhine—on the 6th of September, tired out as 
we were with travelling! Just after we arrived, and as 
we were regretting that it was too dark to see the far- 
famed Falls, a rocket suddenly shot up, and then another, 
and then the Falls were all aglow with colored light. 

„ . We are charmed with our hotel. It stands 

high up, and we have breakfast with eyes turned 
to the view we have come to see. We are waited on by 
girls in the picturesque dress of their canton—black skirts, 
with pipings of scarlet, velvet bodices trimmed with silver 
ornaments, chains and white lace, long white sleeves, and 
chemisettes—good-tempered girls, and quiet, as all the 
Swiss are. 

An extraordinary Englishman is here. I saw some 
Germans looking at him with the same sort of curiosity 
with which we look at a Swiss costume new to us. 

He wears dazzling white linen, a hat of the same material 
and color, a black velvet coat, a scarlet tie, light grey trou¬ 
sers, pale yellow waistcoat, and cricket shoes of tan-colored 
leather. I am confident some foreigners not conversant 
with the vagaries of English dress think him one of the 


1 







IO 


mildred russell’s letters. 


manifold attractions of the Schweizerhof. He is a hand¬ 
some, broad-shouldered man, and very popular with many 
of the guests of the hotel. All sorts of people come 
to the Schweizerhof. One morning about seventy boys, 
ranging from fourteen to eighteen years of age, came and 
took luncheon, and sang some charming part songs, but 
with less feeling than the Germans usually sing. A 
dozen young military officers came one evening, and went 
home singing their songs early next morning, which some 
people did not like. 

As a rule, the Swiss are obliging and very quiet. You 
never hear peals of laughter here, as you do in France 
and Germany. 

Schaffhausen, a mile and a half from the Falls, is said 
to be less changed than any other Swabian town, and 
it still has houses with curious frescoes painted on the 
outside, which, though recently touched up, date back four 
hundred years. 

. I was quite fortunate in seeing a detachment of 

Pilgrims. ... . . 

pilgrims on their return from visiting the shrine 
of Einsiedeln, famous for more than a thousand years. 
About three hundred men and women were taking leave of 
two hundred other men and women who had come to a 
branching-off point. Such gay, bright colors and variety 
of dress! Women with huge bows of broad black ribbon 
on their heads; women with high hats; women with flaps 
of black lace; others with red handkerchiefs on their 
heads, with blue ones, yellow ones, purple ones; dresses 
and aprons of every conceivable color, the latter almost 
large enough to be dress-skirts; then girls with their hair 
interplaited with white satin ribbon, and a huge buckle 
at the back of the head, or with long pins of silver, with 
broad ends as large as the top of a Spanish comb. The 


FALLS OF THE RHINE TO STUTTGART. 11 

crowd looked very gay in the sunshine, and were profuse 
in hand shakings and leave-takings. 

To this bright picture the background was made by 
the men, who looked wretchedly squalid and miserable; 
for the poor clothes which were redeemed in the women 
by bits of color were unrelieved in the men. Their faces 
seemed to express ignorance and stupidity, and lacked 
the intelligence which we are accustomed to associate 
with the appearance of a member of a republic. In spite 
of this, the scene was so new and attractive that I waited 
for another set of cars to see it repeated. I talked with 
some of the people, and they told me they had had a 
good time, and expected all sorts of blessings as a reward 
for their pilgrimage, which is now made very easy for 
them, as the railway goes to Einsiedeln. Most of the pil¬ 
grims seemed very much in earnest over the affair, 
though it is painful to think that numbers of them are paid 
to undertake the journey by the rich people, who are thus 
enabled to reap the benefits without trouble, though, as 
the pay is real and the benefit possibly imaginary, they 
may in one sense be said to have the best of it. 

After a six hours’ journey, we arrived in Stutt- 

Stuttgart. 

gart by daylight, and had a good view of the pe¬ 
culiarity of its position. It lies deep in a hollow, and 
is completely encircled with vine-clad hills. The railway 
comes in, as it were, at the top, and gradually winds 
down till it reaches the station in the middle of the town. 
This, arrangement is especially adapted for confusing 
a stranger’s ideas as to the situation of one part of the 
place with respect to another. 

About the last week of the dull season 

Annual Fair at j ias p assec [ aW ay, and the arrival of the court 
Cannstadt. 1 J 

from Frederickshafen, a summer residence 






12 


mildred russell’s letters. 


on the borders of Lake Constance, to attend the great 
fair has brightened the city. Stuttgart is very different 
from the really solemn looking place it was when we first 
came here, a week or two ago; and, besides, the military 
have returned from the manoeuvres, which go on diligently 
every spring and autumn, and are now lending their aid to 
complete the metamorphosis. 

The annual fair, in progress just now, began yesterday, 
and will continue till Monday night. We went out this 
morning to Cannstadt, the suburb where it is held, and 
were delighted with the way the grounds were decorated. 
The entrances to the race-course were made in the form 
of Roman triumphal arches, and were covered with thick 
masses of dark green foliage. On this back-ground string 
courses were made of all kinds of fruits and vegetables, 
and coats-of-arms in Indian corn grains. At the corners 
were sheaves of wheat, and in the middle a high tower 
rose, so artistically covered with strings of Indian corn, di¬ 
agonally wound round over a foundation of pale green, 
with fruits and berries here and there, that the whole 
looked in the bright sunshine exactly like Majolica. We 
were just taking our seats, which were, fortunately, nearly 
opposite the royal stand, where the prizes were to be 
given away, when the court guests began to arrive, and 
shortly after the royal carriages came. Each of the seven 
was drawn either by four white or black horses, and had 
servants in bright scarlet livery. The Crown Prince Wil¬ 
helm’s was a four-in-hand; the others had postilions. 
Last of all, the King and Queen, preceded and followed 
by equerries and outriders in scarlet, arrived, and were 
greeted by cheers from the people and “ God Save the 
King” from the band. The equerries were distinguished 
officers, ablaze with diamonds, orders and medals. 




Falls of the Rhine to stuttgart. 


*3 


trizes awarded. As SOOn ES the Kin S alld Q Ueen had 

taken their places, the prizes were distri¬ 
buted by the Prime Minister, instead of the King, who 
has weak lungs, and has to be spared too much speaking. 
First, a succession of horses of all kinds passed by—such 
beautiful creatures, and well deserving the widespread 
fame of the Stuttgart royal stables. Then a procession of 
cows and oxen, sleek, fat, and well-formed, and which 
might well touch the heart of any agriculturist with envy, 
and inspire a well-grounded confidence in milk-drinking 
foreigners. Then the sheep took their turn, not looking 
very fine to the eye of the uninitiated, but said by experts 
to have very fine wool. The pigs brought up the rear, 
and were so fat that they had to be spared the circuit 
of the race course, round which the other animals defiled, 
so that all the people might see the prize-winners. 

As we went back through the park, we were fortunate 
enough to see the very pretty sight of the royal procession 
again. It was really more effective when seen at intervals 
through the avenues of trees and at unexpected turns than 
it was on the race-course. The queen was dressed in a 
light brown velvet dress, with a bonnet to match, and 
most of her ladies were in light dresses. 

In matter of dress, the military officers have an advan¬ 
tage over the ladies, for their uniforms are superb and fit 
exquisitely. The light blue stands out very noticeably, 
but must give way in point of richness to the black and 
yellow Wurtembergers’ own. Seen intermingled with the 
toilettes of the ladies, these uniforms give a brilliancy to a 
social gathering which is absent from our home entertain¬ 
ments, where our men are sombrely clad. 

Mildred Russell. 







M 


Mildred russell’s letters. 


FROM STUTTGART TO MUNICH AND 

VERONA. 

Verona November 28, 1884. 

, ^ We left Stuttgart on Thursday morning 

Notes by the way. & _ J 

on our way to Munich, and at first passed 
through a dreary-looking country, with the vineyards 
nearly hidden by snow. After a couple of hours’ ride, the 
snow lay much thicker, the hills became higher and rougher, 
peaks suitable for mediaeval castles appeared and kept up 
our interest, and helped us to forget how cold it was. The 
tower of Staufeneck, though only the most unpretentious 
of ruins, stood threateningly out against the dull grey sky, 
and further on the rugged remnants of the once strong 
'Castle of Scharfeneck, perched on what appeared an inac¬ 
cessible height, scowled defiance at the dwellers in the 
valleys below it. The names seemed to have a remarka¬ 
ble likeness to Breakneck, when pronounced in sight of 
the elevated and dangerous positions occupied by both 
castles. Soon after this we ascended over three hundred 
feet in less than three miles to the plateau of the Pranke 
Alb, where the snow was much thicker than ever, and we 
discovered it was almost unbearably cold. Even after we 
descended to the valley of the Danube, it was no warmer,, 
and after passing Ulm, the last town in Bavaria, with its 
fortifications and fine Gothic cathedral, it grew dark, and 
there was nothing for us to do but to resign ourselves, 
to being amused with shivering till we reached Munich.. 
„ The Munich people have a much less 

Scenes in Munich. 

serious look than any Germans I have come 
across before. Though the streets are covered with 
snow, rapidly turning into slush under the warmth of the 



FROM STUTTGART TO MUNICH AND VERONA. I 5 

midday sun, they go about with an appearance of light¬ 
heartedness which seems almost frivolity when one re¬ 
members they belong to the Fatherland. 

We spent one morning at the Glyptothek, the gallery 
devoted to sculpture. It .has an Ionic fa§ade and hand¬ 
somely decorated • pediment. It is admirably well ar¬ 
ranged, for it has a room devoted to each era in succes¬ 
sion, beginning with the Assyrian, and coming down to 
modern days. In the last room is a statue of “ Paris,” by 
Canova, beautiful in the extreme; a “Vesta,” by Tenerani, 
in pose and expression as of one pondering on heaven- 
taught mysteries; and a “Muse and Cupid,” by Eberhard, 
conveying exquisitely the idea of a young mother listening 
to her whispering child. 

Scenes along the route. Gur ioute fiom Munich to \ erona 

lay through the Tyrol and over the 
Brenner, the lowest of the passes through the principal 
chain of the Alps. It is also one of the oldest, and was 
used even as far back as the time of the Romans. The 
steepest part is from Innspruck to the top. The wind¬ 
ings of the railway gave us ample opportunity to see some 
beautiful scenery and a sight of the mountains under a 
different aspect to that they had in the summer. 

Icicles yards long, frozen waterfalls, trees crisp with 
glittering ice, all the mountains covered with snow, and 
everything frozen hard, now surrounded us, and accom¬ 
panied us into sunny Italy, the land of poetry and romance. 

On both sides of the railway there are precipitous cliffs, 
wild rocky gorges, a few towns of note, but rarely valleys 
of any size. Botzen owes its fortunate situation to a 
striking cluster of mountains rising on one side, and a 
long stretched-out ridge on the other. The neighborhood 
is a favorite resort in summer, and Gries, a village close 












i6 


mildred russell’s letters. 


Royal Guests. 


by, is being highly recommended as a suitable winter 
residence for invalids. 

The Imperial Princess of Germany and 
her daughters spent the late autumn at Gries, 
and while there these art-loving and accomplished ladies 
devoted much of their time to making sketching excur¬ 
sions and taking portraits in the studio of the artists De- 
fregger. 

The next important town is Trent, where the cele¬ 
brated council was held in 1545-53- After leaving this 
town, the country becomes less romantic and more fertile 
as we enter the valley of the Adige, and the part of the 
country where Dante resided when first banished from 
Florence. The custom-house is at Ala, the last Austrian 
town. Luckily, the authorities gave us very little trouble, 
and in a short time we were at Verona. 

Our hotel is built on the open-air principle, and must 
be delightful in summer. At present it is rather cold. 
The corridors we have to traverse to enter our rooms are 
unenclosed and of some extent. They lead round a 
central court, in the middle of which a fountain plays lan 
guidly, I must confess, but with force enough to be thor¬ 
oughly out of harmony with the temperature. How it 
keeps from freezing I cannot imagine. 
v Verona is strongly fortified, and is a peculiarly 

built place, with Italian characteristics all thor¬ 
oughly marked: most of the houses are very high, and 
the streets are so narrow that in walking or driving it is 
often bitterly cold in them, but on turning into a square 
where the sun shines, the emerging shivering creatures are 
temporarily warmed up. The proper way of wearing a 
cloak is soon discovered at Verona. It is worn double- 
breasted, one end being thrown over the shoulder, cover- 


FROM STUTTGART TO MUNICH AND VERONA. I 7 

ing up the mouth and nose e?i route , to keep out the pierc¬ 
ing air which comes sweeping down from the Alps. To 
wear a cloak with Italian grace, however, may not be the 
most easily learned of accomplishments. The men stand 
in the most picturesque of attitudes, and at the same time 
in perfect unconsciousness, looking just as if they were 
actors posing on the stage, and this, added to the quaint 
Verona background, tells us we are in a country hitherto 
unknown to us. Many of the women go 
about having as a wrap merely black lace 
lightly and daintily thrown over the head, to protect them 
from the cold; others wear shawls, and so keep themselves 
warm much after the same fashion as the men do with 
their tabarros or cloaks. Except on well-dressed ladies, 
bonnets or hats are seldom seen. 

Our two days in Verona we gave up to sight-seeing, and 
Juliet’s Tomb amon g other parts we visited Juliet’s house, 
and made a pilgrimage to her empty tomb— 
empty, except for innumerable visiting-cards left in it by 
enthusiastic or sentimental people. I suppose no one 
could come to Verona and resist visiting this spot, yet so 
very much imagination is needed to call up a -feeling of 
romance in the presence of such barren surroundings that 
prosaic people had better omit it. 

We all thought the amphitheatre gave us a 

Architecture. 

better idea of Roman solidity than we had ever 
had before. It is a massive structure, one hundred and 
sixty-eight yards long and one hundred and thirty-four 
wide, capable of seating two thousand people, and ori¬ 
ginally had standing-room for as many more. It is not 
absolutely perfect, but sufficiently so for use, placards be¬ 
ing up announcing a pyrotechnic display next week. It 
has been repaired several times, and though bereft of its 




i8 


MILDRED RUSSELL’S LETTERS. 


ornaments and outer rim, it seems as if it might last an¬ 
other thousand years and lend itself to the amusements 
which may happen to be in fashion then. 

Market place The market people of Verona have an ex¬ 
cellent way of protecting themselves fron sun, 
rain and wind, without the inconvenience of booths, etc. 
They have white umbrellas, from sixteen to eighteen feet 
in diameter, with the sticks fastened tightly in the ground, 
and under these they sell everything, from roasted chest¬ 
nuts to ready-made clothes. Old palaces, still grand in 
outline, new buildings vieing in architectural interest with 
the old, a fountain that has played for ages, and a tribune 
with a canopy of stone, join the umbrellas in making an 
unique sdene. Mildred Russell. 


VENICE, QUEEN OF BEAUTY. 

Venice, December 8, 1884. 

The railway station is at one end of the Grand Canal; 
so, after we had stepped into the gondola sent to meet us, 
we.had the satisfaction of going the whole length to our 
hotel at the other end. And this is the Venice of our 
dreams ! A close succession of high buildings, dreadfully 
out of repair, patchy-looking, dilapidated, and almost as if 
just from the hands of an invading army !' We pass under 
the Rialto, which is as dingy as can be. We gape at 
Desdemona’s house, and cannot make up our minds that 
Vittorio, our gondolier, polite, affable, fluent, is telling 
us the truth. We feel he must be taking us up a back 
street and cramming us poor gullible, all recipient foreign¬ 
ers. 'fhe Queen of the Adriatic is nothing but a worn-out 





VENICE, QUEEN OF BEAUTY. 


*9 


old hag after all! Such thoughts crowd our minds as the 
gondola glides along with a dreamy sort of movement, 
and Vittorio purls out his remarks on this or that an¬ 
tiquated palace in softly-flowing French. 

We have been here a week now, and have 
opinion^ ent i re ty- changed our opinions. No Republican 
who has happily seen the error of his ways and 
voted the straight Democratic ticket is half so thoroughly 
reconstructed on fundamental issues as we are. We 
ignore all we thought about dilapidated palaces and old 
hags, and own that our eyes, accustomed to fresh paint, 
newness, and French polish of all kinds, failed to grasp 
the beauty beside us. Venice is Queen of Beauty still! 
No ephemeral prettiness, but rather magnificent, gorgeous, 
gift-bestowing, as to thought and idea. See her in her 
jewels on a sunny day! Her rippling, sheeny waters must 
surely have taught her people how to make their glass, 
such varied form and colors do they take—huge tur¬ 
quoises set in sheets of silver, fit only for her or fabled 
goddesses; such streamers of red and gold and green, 
looped up with strings of liquid pearls, and all of her own 
element. 

_ There is a wonderful fascination in walking 

Squares * ^ 

about Venice, and an easiness in going wrong 
peculiar to all fascinating things. The narrow streets 
are a mazy wilderness on first acquaintance. Nothing 
ever surprised me more than the number of squares and 
open places in Venice. The largest, St. Mark’s, is rather 
longer than wide. The west facade of the cathedral 
is at one end. Its five circular arches, one mass of bril¬ 
liant glass mosaics on gold backgrounds; its innumerable 
columns, each having a different capital and a profusion of 
sculpture and ornamentation, help to give it the magnifi- 








20 


MILDRED RUSSELl/s LETTERS. 


cence associated with the idea of the East. In this large 
Byzantine edifice every inch is a work of art. The floor 
is marble mosaic; the arches and domes are covered 
with gold, relieved with pictures. Prophets, apostles, 
saints, are sculptured in every material. Over the high 
altar a canopy of green marble is supported by columns 
carved in brown marble, and behind the altar is a row 
of columns, one of which is said to have been brought 
from the temple of Jerusalem. An afternoon inside of 
St. Mark’s Cathedral brings variety of scene enough to 
furnish themes for volumes. Half a dozen artists, among 
them Barrett, a protege of Ruskin’s, painting different 
views; strangers conducted through by guides speaking a 
jargon of many languages; men and women coming in to 
say a short prayer at this altar or at that; others who 
come in to rest or lounge. 

Funeral addition to this a funeral; its official attend¬ 

ants wore loose scarlet robes tightened at the 
waist, and with a pointed hood hanging down the back. 
The coffin, evidently containing the body of a young man 
of the working classes, was draped with red, and carried 
on a stretcher by two of the red-robed attendants. It 
was placed on a bier at a side entrance. Four other 
attendants held lighted candles in tall gilt candelabra; 
another bore a crucifix, and several young men, friends of 
the deceased from their appearance, stood round, tapers 
in hand. Meanwhile the procession of priests came to 
the altar, and chanted the sonorous prayers for the dead. 
As they proceeded, the candelabra were extinguished; a 
priest and acolyte came and led the way; the bearers 
took up the stretcher; the other red attendants and the 
friends followed as far as the canal. The coffin was 
placed in a gondola, accompanied by two men. The 



VENICE, QUEEN OF BEAUTY. 2 1 

acolyte put out his taper; the friends one by one did the 
same; and as the gondola moved away, the officials took 
off their red robes and folded them up. The coffin was 
then borne silently to the Island of Murano, the burial- 
ground of the Venetians. During this time the artists 
have painted away, unmindful of anything except the 
criticisms of their friends, who have strolled in to pass 
remarks and have a chat. 'The vergers have been dusting 
the ornaments on the altars not in use at the moment; 
more sight-seers have stepped in and out again, and 
vespers have begun at the high altar. A peasant couple 
walk bn, with an amazed sort of look. The man, in the 
oldest of clothes, looks thoroughly unkempt; the woman, 
clean and tidy. She wears a red and blue stuff dress, 
and a checked kerchief folded across her breast. Her ear¬ 
rings are long and tapering, and her hair knotted in and 
out with scarlet ribbon. A quiet, well-dressed lady has 
finished her prayers, and is leading out her four-year-old 
boy by the hand. He has long, fair curls, is dressed in a 
blue velvet coat and cap, and looks very sweet as he turns 
round towards the altar, kneels down on the bare stones, 
and makes the sign of the cross at his mother’s bidding. 

The arches in the piazetta leading to St. Mark’s are 
very beautiful. One row is Gothic, and the opposite 
a triumph of the renaissance. What gorgeous people the 
old Venetians must have been, those who gave the com¬ 
mission to build and those who executed! Their de¬ 
scendants, looked at superficially, are the kindest and 
most amiable of people, though it is said their domestic 
life is anything but satisfactory. 

The thermometer has a ridiculous habit of 

Temperature. 

not marking the temperature very low here; 
and while you are convinced by your own feelings it must 







22 


mildred russell’s letters. 


be nearly freezing, and people are going about muffled 
up, the registration is high. Between the cold days, or 
' cold parts of a day, the sun shines, people swarm out 
of doors, at every corner some one is singing, and the 
whole population has an air of amusing itself, and is 
bright and gay. 

Venice, the home of Titian the painter, has many of 
his beautiful pictures. The most celebrated are the “ As¬ 
sumption,” the “Presentation,” and the “Martyrdom of 
St. Lawrence.” The first two are in the Academy, and 
are miracles of light and color. The groups of angels in 
the “Assumption” have a variety of sweet young faces; 
the amazed apostles are in gloom below, and every atti¬ 
tude is forcible and telling. In the “Presentation” the 
motley crowd at the bottom of the temple steps resembles 
such a gathering as would have been collected in St. 
Mark’s Piazza at the time the picture was painted. Bright, 
eager faces of intelligent men; beautiful women dressed in 
Venetian brocades; a young woman with a baby wriggling 
about over her shoulder as she gossips with a friend; an 
old woman selling wares from a basket—all are depicted 
with the dress of the day. “ The Martyrdom ” is in the 
Church of the Jesuits, and is more than half invisible, 
partly owing to its position, and partly to the low key in 
which it is painted. The little of it that can be seen is 
dramatic beyond expression; a hand and arm stand out as 
if positively quivering, and the Saint, dimly seen on the 
grating over the fire, is a triumph of tragic representation. 
Paris Bordone’s “ Delivery of St. Mark’s Ring to the Doge” 
is another picture of Venetian life in the sixteenth century. 
The Doge, in pale gold tissue, is seated on his throne, 
and a throng of nobles, in robes of office and ceremony, 
are grouped here and there; the fisherman, barefooted 



VENICE, QUEEN OF BEAUTY. 


23 


and bareheaded, stretches out his hand to the Doge, who 
is bending forward as far as is compatible with the dignity 
of such an imposing individual, to take the ring. The 
repose of the Venetians, the attitude of the fisherman, 
who is greatly overawed, and dares scarcely approach the 
Doge, and the distant perspective of the Cathedral and 
square are all happily rendered. 

Every time we go out we pass the Bridge of Sighs, the 
connecting link between the palace of the imperious Doges 
and the prison. The latter, no longer apportioned to the 
great or ambitious who have failed in their aims, is given 
up now to the custody of the poor wretched criminals in 
every day life, who are probably only more unlucky than 
their neighbors, without being much worse. One day we 
saw a boy of sixteen, with his hands chained, being taken 
out of the prison. He looked submissive enough, and a 
marked contrast to the comfortably-dressed, triangular- 
hatted guardian who had him in charge. 

Mildred Russell. 


WANDERINGS IN FLORENCE. 

Florence, December 29, 1884. 

We left Venice almost with tears of regret, and came 
over to the mainland, then through a flat, uninteresting 
country, past Ferarra and Bologna, and across the Apen¬ 
nines to Florence. 

It rained depressingly for some days alter our arrival, 
and if this fair city had been visible, we might have been 
disappointed at the first sight of her under such circum¬ 
stances, but she was hidden in a fog. As many ol the 









24 . 


mildred russell’s letters. 


streets have no sidewalks, the vehicles appropriate the 
middle, or otherwise as they choose, and though the 
drivers are obliging enough to screech to the pedestrians 
to get out of the way, it is in a tone which makes the lat¬ 
ter start wildly in all directions, as if they had been dyna¬ 
mited. Besides this unaccustomed nuisance, it was so 
slippery with mud that we had to give vigilant heed for 
fear of falling. With these combined disadvantages, we 
had no leisure out of doors for anything but care for our 
personal safety, and so did not mind the invisibility of 
the city. Fortunately we have rapidly become used to 
dodging carts and carriages, and can successfully vie with 
old Florentines in this respect. 

Florence Florence is beautifully situated in a valley 
amid spurs of the Appenines, and is sheltered on 
all sides by those mountains, which, however, occasion¬ 
ally withdraw their usual protection, and send down bit¬ 
terly cold winds from their snow-clad tops. 

The Placid Arno. T ^e Arno > a placid stream at this spot 
as a rule, is just now swollen by the recent 
rains, and is rushing along like a torrent through the city. 
Pinks, lilies of the valley, roses, narcissus, and many 
other flowers, are for sale in profusion in the streets, and 
have that delicious, crisp, fresh look that is one of their 
great beauties, and which comes from growing in the soft 
open air. 

Since our arrival we have been exclusively occupied in 
visiting the churches, picture-galleries, and palaces of this 
famous city, and in seeing the wonderful artistic creations 
we have so often read of and longed to see. Whatever 
doubt as to the value of the “old masters” may be in 
the minds of those who have only seen the caricatures 
of them which travel round the world under the name 


WANDERINGS IN FLORENCE. 2$ 

of copies, must instantly disappear after visiting Flor¬ 
ence. 

Giotto’s Campanile, or bell-tower, the Baptistery, and 
the Cathedral, are very near together, and form a group of 
most interesting buildings. 

The enormous dome of the cathedral, one of the largest 
in the world, is a culminating spot, round which the half¬ 
domes of the choir-apse and transepts are disposed on a 
lower level. This arrangement gives to the views of the 
Cathedral, on walking round it, an ever-varying outline of 
fine architectural proportions and exquisite artistic orna¬ 
mentation. The outside of the Cathedral is mainly of 
black and white marble, with an inlaying of colored suf¬ 
ficient to give it an animated look; the doors have reliefs 
over them of pure-white marble, and the fayade, long un¬ 
decorated, is now rapidly approaching completion, 
campanile The Campanile stands at the southern side 
of the west end, and rises up, adorned with 
sculpture and fairy-like tracery, to the height of two hun¬ 
dred and ninety-two feet. 

Three bronze doors are the chief ornaments of the Bap¬ 
tistery, praised, but not overpraised, by many celebrated 
writers. They are divided into compartments, the prin¬ 
cipal of which depict biblical scenes, and the rest allego¬ 
rical, and were originally covered with gilding, that is now 
nearly all worn off by four hundred years of sunshine, 
rain, and dust. 

The Florentines love their city intensely and the mem¬ 
ory of the great men who have especially helped to beau¬ 
tify it or increase the prosperity and glory of its citizens, 
and have placed tablets commemorating their deeds on 
many of the houses where these men lived. T his is very 
interesting to foreigners, and helps them to understand 





26 


Mildred russell’s letters. 


and appreciate the history of Florence; and the variety of 
the characters so honored shows that the citizens have a 
will of their own and a capability of appreciating all orders 
and degrees of men. 

We soon detected how facetious and satirical the b loren- 
tines are, from the celebrated preacher at the Cathedral 
down to the uneducated classes. A workman brought 
us a package which had to be paid for, and being thought¬ 
lessly asked if he could give change for a hundred-franc 
bill, he answered, “I haven’t a centesimo,’’ with a burst of 
laughter and a look of keen appreciation of the satire of 
the question. 

On the day of Federigo Campanella’s funeral I had 
curiosity enough to go and see the house where the cele¬ 
brated old republican lived, and found a crowd collected. 
Thinking it would soon disperse, I took refuge under a 
doorway opposite, but from the moment I arrived the peo¬ 
ple flocked to the spot, and I began to be uneasy, fearing 
there might be a crush. After waiting for nearly an hour, 
the coffin was put into the hearse, a mass of beautiful 
flowers was laid upon it, over thirty wreaths in oak and 
laurel were hung around, and the procession brought into 
order. Deputations from more than a hundred societies, 
with many handsomely-embroidered banners, joined in. 
The town of Leghorn sent a plain black flag, with Cam¬ 
panella’s name and the date of his death upon it, and the 
Mazzini Brotherhood sent the corresponding one borne at 
Mazzini’s funeral. The procession, enlivened by four bands 
of music, passed through all the principal streets of the 
city before going to the railway station, and the whole of 
democratic and republican Florence turned out to pay a 
last tribute to one of its heroes. The affair passed off 
so quietly that, as a stranger, I did not understand there 


WANDERINGS IN FLORENCE. 


27 

was any probability of a real disturbance, though from the 
character of the banners, the absence of anything betoken¬ 
ing sympathy on the side of the government or religious 
bodies, and the appearance of the crowd, it was easy to 
see there was an undercurrent of excited feeling against 
the powers that rule. I heard afterwards the authorities 
were rather anxious, and that at Genoa, where Campa- 
nella was buried the next day, the police seized some of 
the banners with republican sentiments on them, which 
were too defiant to be submitted to by a monarchical gov¬ 
ernment. 

Just after it was dark last night, I heard the chanting 
of priests gradually approaching, and on looking through 
the window saw a number of mysterious beings, dressed 
from top to toe in loose white clothes, each carrying a 
high, flaming torch and having two abyssmally dark spots 
on his face where holes were cut for him to see through. 
A group of priests in black, and scarcely discernible in 
the darkness, came next, and then a coffin, for it was a 
funeral conducted by the Brotherhood of the White Miseri- 
cordia; after this more ghostly white creatures and torches 
and a promiscuous crowd, with a long line of faintly-glim¬ 
mering tapers. The effect was strangely weird and sug¬ 
gestive of the horrors of death, and made a strong con¬ 
trast to Campanella’s martial music, bright flowers, and 
gay banners. 


WANDERINGS IN FLORENCE.—( Continued.) 


San Miniato. 


Florence, January 7, 1885. 

One of the prettiest drives near Florence is 
to the old fortifications designed by Michael 






28 MILDRED RUSSELL’S LETTERS, 

Angelo, and to the Church of San Miniato, which they ad¬ 
join. Passing through the Via Romana, under the old 
gateway of the same name, and gradually ascending amid 
olive trees, cypresses, roses in bloom, and extensive views 
of the town and mountains, we reach the top of the hill. 
The mountains are softly blue in the distance, with the 
white snow sprinkled on them, as if there had been a 
4 shower of pearls. Nearer to us they are heather-colored, 
and between the gaps a silvery, sheeny sky shines through. 
At our feet the Cathedral dome stands out sharply and 
defined; Giotto’s slender tower rises gracefully close by, 
and the Florentine houses crowd thickly round, as if this 
were their centre and household hearth. 

The churches generally contain frescoes by great paint¬ 
ers, and the two principal art galleries, the Uffizi and the 
Pitti, so called after the palaces in which they are placed, 
are veritable storehouses of easel-pictures, statuary, and 
o-iiierj an d ot ^ er works of art. The two galleries lie re¬ 
spectively on the right and left banks of the Arno, 
and are connected by a covered bridge, running over one 
side of that used for ordinary traffic. It is said that this 
passage, made by one of the Medici family, who for many 
years alternately ruled Florence, and were driven from it, 
was constructed in imitation of that between the palaces 
of Priam and Hector, and was also designed to form a 
means of escape in times of danger. The Ponto Vecchio, 
over which it runs, has a double line of small shops, prin¬ 
cipally of cheap jewelry, built on it, so that on crossing it 
there is some difficulty in seeing where the bridge ends 
and the streets begin; but in the middle there is an open 
space, affording an opportunity of a view up and down 

stream. The Tribune, octagonal in shape and covered 
( % 
with a dome, is the chief room in the Uffizi, and one of 



WANDERINGS IN FLORENCE. 


2 9 


the most celebrated in the world, on account of its valu¬ 
able works of art. 

Venus at Medici. The statue of Venus > called di Medici, 
strikes the eye on entering by its perfect 

symmetry and light and graceful bearing, and makes one 
regret that these charms cannot oftener be carried into 
other works having a more serious character. Behind it 
on the wall is a Madonna and two saints by Andrea del 
Sarto, painted in the softest and most harmonious tones, 
and by the side of the Madonna is a Venus of fascinating 
loveliness by Titian. In another room Niobe and her 
fourteen children, antique statues dating from before the 
Christian era, are ranged round; the mother, occupying 
the central position, and the most attractive of the group, 
is endeavoring to protect her youngest child from the ar¬ 
rows which have slain the rest. 

In the cloisters of the Annunciation, the series of fres¬ 
coes by Andrea del Sarto, painted over three hundred 
years ago, have the beautiful coloring, faultless drawing 
and grouping for which that painter is renowned, and are 
in excellent preservation, and the most pleasing, indepen¬ 
dently of artistic merit, of any in Florence. Keen inter¬ 
est is attached historically to many of the frescoes by their 

Old Florentines containing portraits of celebrated people of 
the time when they were painted. In fea¬ 
tures they have a curious resemblance to the Florentines 
of to-day, and seem to have been truthfully rendered, and 
lack that air of being got up expressly to have their por¬ 
traits taken which is so often and so painfully seen now. 
Men of learning, political leaders, and heads of noted busi¬ 
ness firms, are grouped in life-like attitudes, and though, 
as a whole, they cannot lay claim to beauty, most of them 
have an appearance of intelligence and power. 


30 mildred russell’s letters. 

Cimabue’s “Madonna,” in St. Maria Novella, painted 
over five hundred years since, is considered one of his 
best pictures, and is a curious study. It looms up, as it 
were, in the dimness of the church, a large-framed woman, 
with no coloring in particular, and yet has an expression 
of ineffable tenderness, and compassion and sympathy 
enough for the joys and sorrows of the whole world. I 
do not wonder that people far removed above the igno¬ 
rant and uneducated can kneel before such a picture, and 
find a comfort in its dumb sympathy which they fail to 
obtain from living lips. Two wooden crucifixes, one by 
Brunelleschi, in the church of St. Maria Novella, and the 
other by Donatello, have the story of the rivalry of these 
two sculptors attached to them. Brunelleschi was com¬ 
missioned to execute a crucifix, and when it was finished 
it created such a sensation that Donatello, who was a few 
years younger, determined to try and surpass it. Some 
people think he succeeded, but others claim that Brunel¬ 
leschi bears the palm. At any rate, they are both wonder¬ 
ful productions, and strike thrills of horror and compas¬ 
sion by their life-like appearance. 

The large square of the Signoria, or magistracy, is domi¬ 
nated by the old palace, which has a less grim and threat¬ 
ening air than it must have had when unsuccessful con¬ 
spirators were hung from the windows, or when Savonarola 
and his companions were burned in front of it; but it has 
still the appearance of tremendous strength and cunning 
watchfulness, and its high, slender tower has a lookout 
over a stretch of country miles in extent, and seems to be 
ready to spy out the most distant foe. A fountain is on 
the spot where Savonarola was burned, and several statues 
have been added since his day to the Loggie or Arcades at 
the side of the square. Among them “ Perseus,” with the 


WANDERINGS IN FLORENCE. 


31 


head of Medusa, is considered Benvenuto Cellini’s best 
work, and Donatella’s “Judith,” with the head of Holo- 
fernes awakens other interest besides artistic; for on its 
base it has the motto, “ Salutis Publico. Exemplum 
carved after one of the expulsions of the Medici family. 

The Monastery of St. Marco, at the other 

Savonarola’s . , _ . .... . 

Monastery. side of the city, to which almost every travel¬ 
ler makes a pilgrimage, has the most intimate 
associations with the noted Dominican, as there he lived 
and wrote and interviewed his adherents. Towards the 
street there is a straight wall, with plain windows, ‘which 
have probably been made in later times. On entering a 
small doorway, the square cloisters, decorated with frescoes, 
come immediately into sight, and round them are the re¬ 
fectories, assembly, and other rooms. The % next floor is 
divided by wide passage ways, and on each side are the 
small rooms or cells for the private use of the Brother¬ 
hood, and the library, the earliest public one 

First Public Li-. . . . . _ .. _ . 

brary in Italy. in Italy, founded m 1441, by Cosmo di Med¬ 
ici, who, like George Washington, was sur- 
named the father of his country by his grateful fellow-citi¬ 
zens. The frescoes of the Dominican Fra Angelico are 
still preserved on the walls of the cells and corridors, and 
reproduce the rapt, devotional, and enthusiastic expressions 
so much aimed at in Christian art before the renaissance. 

The stores of Florence are very tempting. A whole 
street is filled with antiquities, among which brocades, in¬ 
laid furniture, china and jewelry stand out in attractive 
fashion for travellers who have money and liking for these 
’ obiects. Elaborate picture-frames in gilded 

Picture Frames. J x 

wood, in antique and modern designs, and 
all sorts of household furniture of the same material, are 
specialties here, and are to be had at moderate prices. 

Mildred Russell. 





32 


MILDRED RUSSELL S LETTERS. 


ART STUDIES IN FLORENCE. 

Florence, January io, 1885. 

Holiday* The holidays of this season of the year are 
now at an end, and Florence is settling down to 
its usual routine after the pleasure-taking of Christmas, 
New-Year's, and, the greatest of all, the Feast of the Epi¬ 
phany. The 6th of January is a general holiday, and the 
evening before it the Italian children hang baskets out of 
the windows, hoping the Kings of the East or the good 
fairies will put something in them; and, no doubt, they are 
rarely disappointed. 

A mission service of two weeks is being held in the Ca¬ 
thedral, and admonitious sermons are delivered three 
times a day, with the object of stirring up the people to 
„ . , a stricter observance of the ordinances of the 
Church and the cultivation of a deeper religious 
life. Along two of the huge arches, and reaching from 
side to side of the nave of the Cathedral, an awning of 
dark green stuff has been temporarily hung, and a plat¬ 
form erected underneath, with a prie-dieu and arm-chair 
placed upon it. The two or three times I have attended, 
the preacher, Father Turchi, a man about thirty-five years 
of age, wore a black gown and berretta; he bowed to the 
congregation on ascending the platform, then said a short 
prayer at the prie-dieu , to which they responded. He 
then began his sermon with earnestness and great fluency 
and considerable dramatic effect, but his powerful voice, 
restrained from reverberating by the awning under which 
he and his hearers stood, resounded at the far end of the 
vast Cathedral as if pandemonium were let loose. Not in 
the least disturbed by it, he continued for about twenty 


ART STUDIES IN FLORENCE. 


33 


minutes with unabated energy, and was heard with breath¬ 
less attention. Then he sat down in the arm-chair for a 
few minutes, and the congregation, released from the 
strain of listening, took the opportunity of moving their 
chairs and rustling and shuffling about generally, till the 
preacher rose again, when perfect silence ensued. Some¬ 
times there are three pauses in an Italian sermon, which 
seems to me an excellent arrangement, both for preacher 
and congregation, preventing restlessness and giving an 
opportunity to the tired to withdraw without offence to 
others. 


__ A . , „ The National Museum is a good place 

to see some excellent bronzes and sculp¬ 
ture. The Bargello, in which the collection is, has more 
the air of a castle than a palace, and was appropriated to 
the use of the Chief Magistrate of the republic in early 
times. The entrance hall, a large, low, vaulted room, 
has numerous shields and crests painted on the walls, and 
a display of armor and guns arranged in it. It leads to a 
magnificent court, round which the palace is built, and 
where the ascent is made to the floor above and the 
rooms containing the bulk of the works of art. 

Passing by a white marble figure of a man asleep in so 
natural a pose that we are inclined to tread more softly for 
fear of disturbing such peaceful rest, we come upon a set 
of bass-reliefs of Luca della Robbia’s singing boys and girls, 
They represent a number of children in the most natural, 
and therefore most charming, guise. Their sweet faces— 
some of them earnest, others gleeful—and their varied at¬ 
titudes of abandon and grace, fascinate every one who has 
any loye for their living prototypes. A room full of glazed 
terra cotta works by the Robbia family affords a good op¬ 
portunity of studying their various styles, though nothing 


3 


34 


mildred russell’s letters. 


Angelo’s David. 


surpasses Luca’s singing children in attractiveness. A bass- 
relief in bronze of a greyhound by Benvenuti Cellini looks 
as if he were conscious of being the descendant of a family 
of race-winners, and has a more sagacious look than most 
of his species usually have. Giovanni da Bologna’s “ Mer¬ 
cury” in bronze leaves no doubt in any one’s mind of the 
winged messenger’s capability of flying. His natural ele¬ 
ment seems the upper air, and so swift are his movements 
that we feel, if we turned our eyes away a moment, he might 
be gone. He is evidently bent on enjoying his expedition 
thoroughly, and at the same time is hastening with right 
good will to obey Jupiter’s commands. 

The largest statue in Florence is Michael 
Angelo’s “ David,” in the Academy of Fine 
Arts. It shows David as a young man in the prime of 
youth, and not the small boy he is so often seen. He is 
standing calm and confident, conscious of his own skill, 
and inspired with the courage of a just and patriotic cause; 
with his left hand he grasps the sling thrown over his 
shoulder, in his right the pebble is ready, and he seems 
to be only waiting for the critical moment to throw it and 
step to certain victory. 

There are several collections of modern pictures by 
Florentine artists, which are, of course, for sale. They re¬ 
semble the French in style of subject and treatment, with 
perhaps greater softness of tone and color. 

The Palazzo Ricardi, where Lorenzo the Magnificent 
was born and held his brilliant court, is now used for gov¬ 
ernment offices. The principal attractions to sight-seers 
are the paintings, which entirely cover the walls of the pri¬ 
vate chapel, and under the representa- 

Benozzo Gonzoli’s . 1 

Kings of the East, tion ol the journey of the Kings of the 
East give portraits of the Medici family 




ART STUDIES IN FLORENCE. 


35 


and their adherents. The kings, in the elaborate attire of 
their country, are accompanied by a long train of knights 
and attendants, with horses, leopards, and costly gifts. In 
the same palace there are mirrors painted with wreaths 
of flowers, something after the fashion so much in vogue 
now in America. 

The way the Florentines have of keeping themselves 
warm in-doors on their cold days is very funny. In their 
churches, picture-galleries, and large stores, they carry 
0 ... . about little brown glazed earthenware baskets, or 
scaldini, with hot wood ashes in them, over which 
they spread their hands, and so take off the chilliness. 
It would be hopeless to try to heat their lofty, spacious 
buildings, for any apparatus capable of doing so would as¬ 
suredly make them unbearably hot in such a mild climate 
as this. The notices outside the druggist’s doors of “no 
more chilblains” are only a mockery to tempt the credu¬ 
lous to buy, for this tormenting nuisance, the result of 
damp, runs riot here, and refuses to be banished by any 
precautions. Mildred Russell. 


FROM FLORENCE TO ROME. 

Rome, January 24, 1885. 

It rained heavily throughout the night before we left Flor¬ 
ence, but cleared up as we started in the early morning, 
and enabled us to see the surrounding country, which is 
naturally pretty, and made more so by villages dotted here 
and there among the hills, villas availing themselves of 
every advantage of beautiful and sheltered position, and 



3 6 


mildred russell’s letters. 


castles built rather for pleasure residences than for purposes 
of defence. 

As we came nearer the higher mountains they were en¬ 
veloped in thick fog, which lifted occasionally and showed 
us their snowy peaks and purple slopes; and as the fresh, 
green vegetation lay in sunshine in the valleys below, we 
were afforded a most enjoyable panorama of lights and 
shades and blended coloring. Some of the fruit-trees 
were already pruned and the land put through its spring cul¬ 
tivation, so that it was difficult for us to realize that it was 
only the beginning of January. The country soon became 
old Towns w ild er and varied with several old towns perched 
high up on the rocks, as if defying the fury of 
the elements and the wrath of all possible enemies. Among 
them Cortona, a compactly-built place of moderate size 
and glorying in untold ages of existence, is no longer a 
dread foe to strangers, but, as becomes the dignity of her 
years, has a well-settled-down look and a courteous greet¬ 
ing for all comers, especially antiquity-lovers. Lake 
Thrasymene took advantage of the bad weather to beau¬ 
tify herself, and lay like a widespread quivering sheet of 
emerald, fringed with tall, waving reeds; and the deep blue 
mountains, capped in fleecy white haze, stood out boldly 
behind, as if desirous to protect so valuable a jewel. On 
one of its three islands is a monastery, and the town of 
Castilione is built on part of the shore which juts into it. 
Still it has a very solitary appearance, and might almost 
pass for deserted by all except by the spirit of beauty. It 
began to rain in torrents as we passed through a dreary 
track of uninhabited, hilly land, looking partly like a waste 
of ruins and partly like a rabbit-warren, and ridged and 
criss-crossed in every conceivable direction as if by heavy 
rains, furrowing it from time immemorable. 


FROM FLORENCE TO ROME. 


37 


We kept a strict watch for a first sight of the Tiber, in 
order to realize we were really on the road to Rome, and 
we saw that turbulent stream rushing and tearing along 
faster and faster as we went on our way. At first its tribu¬ 
taries, from every rise of ground, seemed to contribute 
threads of gold to widen a bright and gleaming band which 
wound in and out and disappeared, and constantly ap¬ 
peared again; but soon the threads developed into torrents, 
pouring down like waterfalls, and the river itself was more 
like a heavy mass of yellow mud than a stream. As we ap¬ 
proached the low-lying land of the campagna the water 
was out like a lake; the tops of the fences were only 
just visible, the cattle had taken refuge on the higher 
ground, and the few human beings visible were struggling 
to secure themselves from the danger of an inundation. 

The sun set like a ball of fire just before we reached 
Rome, and the waning light as we entered only allowed us 
to see the dim outline of the skeleton ruin of the 'Temple 
of Minerva, and the ease with which we gained our luxu¬ 
rious hotel savored of Paris as much as of any other place 
in the world. 

It was some days before the Tiber sank to its usual 
level The Pantheon was three feet in water, and the 
lowest parts of the city, near the river, were flooded, and 
much anxiety was felt lest the overflow should be greater, 
for the rain continued some days. 

Rome presents many varied aspects externally, accord¬ 
ing to the parts immediately under view. Some of the 
streets are wide, and resemble those of Paris and London, 
and have large hotels, fine shops, tramways, and numbers 
of persons dressed a Id francaise walking up and down. 
The Corso, the ancient Via Flaminia, leading from the 
Capitol in the heart of the city through the Porta del Po- 


mildred russell’s letters. 


38 

polo and into the Campagna, is the most crowded from 
three to five o’clock, and during these hours the Queen 
and most of the Roman aristocracy pass through it to 
their afternoon drives. It is also a favorite promenade, 
and crowds of people saunter along it, so that it is often 
difficult to walk or drive at more than a foot’s pace. 

The ruins present the appearance of the ghosts of a giant 
city of the dead; in the Forum Romanum they are so 
close together that it is difficult to picture to one’s self 
where the crowds stood. This forum is oblong, and is 
entered by descending a flight of steps to its level, which 
is considerably below the modern surrounding streets. 
The ground is strewn with pieces of marble columns, 
statues, and ornaments, and in different places clusters of 
solitary columns and arches rise, and ground plans show 
themselves and enable the visitor to mark the site of the 
most celebrated buildings. The Senate House, around 
which so much interest clings, is still unexcavated, and 
lies under a convent, but parts of the Via Sacra, where 
Horace and other loiterers used to stroll, and over which 
important and sacred processions marched up the steep 
ascent to the Capitol, are still to be seen. 

On Sunday I went to the Church of Trinita de 

Vespers. . 

Monti, to hear the Sisters of the Sacred Heart 
sing the vesper service. They have been celebrated for 
their musical culture for many years, and still sing 
several pieces composed for them by Mendelssohn when 
he was in Rome. The Sisters of to-day have sweet, care¬ 
fully-trained voices, and render their service, especially the 
evening hymn, with much refinement of taste and religious 
expression. They throw their church open to the public 
on Sunday afternoons, and usually have a large congrega¬ 
tion, and, as in all Catholic countries, a mixed one. At 


FROM FLORENCE TO ROME. 


39 


the time I attended, there were ladies of rank, young men 
of fashion, students belonging to the schools of two or 
three monastic orders, a sprinkling of foreigners, the 
rapidly-disappearing professional beggar, and many others 
whom I could not classify. About one hundred young 
ladies who are being educated at the convent were present 
at the service. They wore long white veils, and collect¬ 
ively made a very pretty sight. 

Painters’ Models The § rou P s °f painters’ models who haunt 
the sunshiny parts of the steps leading up to 
the church and at the top of the Via Sistina are very 
amusing. They are of all ages, from old men and women 
to tiny children. Some of them are remarkably hand¬ 
some, but the majority are merely picturesque, and owe 
their attractions to their fancy costumes. The women 
wear short colored dresses, white aprons, lace brocade 
or velvet bodices, and Roman scarfs tied in different 
tasteful ways on their head; they have earrings of wonder¬ 
ful designs, and pins and brooches of all shapes, usually 
with pearls in them. Whilst waiting to be employed, 
they amuse themselves with gay unconcern. The men 
play toss-penny, one girl jingles a tambourine and the 
others dance to it, and all chat and sing and loiter about 
with an abandon and capability of enjoying, doing nothing 
in particular which might create envy in the hearts of 
serious-minded people who have many responsibilities on 
their shoulders. 

It is a cold winter in Rome, and the icicles have been 
hanging here and there round the many fountains and wa¬ 
ter-spouts in the gardens at the same time that the orange 
trees are laden with ripening fruit. Seen together for the first 
time, they looked rather incongruous to an eye accustomed 
to associate sharp frost with bare orchards, and to expect 


4o 


MILDRED RUSSELL*S LETTERS. 


an orange-grove to be a perpetual atmosphere of balmy 
warmth. Preparations for the approaching carnival are 
being made, but at present the full arrangements have not 
been definitely fixed upon. 

st Peters ' '^ e Cathedral °f St. Peter is a gorgeous edifice, 
and well fitted to give an idea of the pomp and 
pride of a supreme pontiff who was also a temporal prince 
and to excite admiration as a triumph of architectural skill. 
It is true, it is said, the effect has been ruined by modifica- 

Magnificent Temple. tl0ns of the original plan, but it is still a 

temple magnificent in itself, where throngs 
of worshippers can asemble for religious rites or quiet con¬ 
templation at its many altars, and leave ample room for 
the untold numbers who come merely for the satisfaction 
of seeing. It is covered with gilding, and is full of mar¬ 
ble monuments erected to the memory of successive 
popes. 


The annual ceremony of blessing the candles 
B Candfes he vvas performed in the Chapel of the Virgin, at 
St. Peter’s, on the 2d February. The attendant 
priests went by twos up to Cardinal Howard, the officiat¬ 
ing prelate, and each, kneeling, presented a candle to be 
blessed, and, on receiving it back, kissed it, and, retiring, 
gave place to the next in order, and fetched others till the 
whole had been brought. When this part of the cere¬ 
mony was over, a procession was formed, and passed up 
and down the Cathedral. It was led by the choristers, an 
assembly of men and boys down to the age of six or seven, 
dressed in violet cassocks and white linen and lace sur¬ 
plices; after these were priests with gray fur capes turned 
up with scarlet; and then a superior order of priests in 
red and violet cassocks, with white surplices trimmed with 
lace of rare kinds and exquisite fineness. The Cardinal 


FROM FLORENCE TO ROME. 


41 


closed the procession, his great height increased by a tall 
gilt mitre, and his breadth of shoulders by a white silk 
vestment stiff with gold embroidery. He was a fit repre¬ 
sentative of a great hierarchy, around whom timid and 
bold adherents alike might gather with enthusiastic devo¬ 
tion as a tower of strength. He was supported by two 
priests, one of whom carried a purple velvet cushion for 
his eminence to kneel upon when opposite the sacred 
altars. Each of the members of the procession—about 
three hundred in number—carried a lighted taper, the Car¬ 
dinal holding his as if it were the true light he was shed¬ 
ding on a world grovelling in darkness, and entrusting 
it to his supporter when he knelt, as if it were a sacred de¬ 
posit confided to him for the good of mankind. The 
lower officials, who kept order among the on-lookers, were 
dressed in black and reddish lilac and white lace, and 
were in keeping with the rest. 

St. Peter’s is so enormous that, in passing 

St. Peter’s. 1 ° 

under the lofty arches and through the wide 
aisles, the three hundred were a mere speck in the vast¬ 
ness, and in spite of their dress, hardly worthy the tradi¬ 
tional pomp of this church. The Cardinal alone raised 
the affair above the commonplace, and possessed the 
priestly dignity necessary for a gorgeous religious festival. 
He is an Englishman, and belongs to the ducal house of 
Norfolk, which has had little to do with the public affairs 
of England for many generations in consequence of its 
steady loyalty to the Catholic faith. 


Mildred Russell. 


42 


mildred russell’s letters. 


CARNIVAL SEASON AT ROME. 

Rome, February n, 1885. 

The carnival has begun, and each day the people seem 
to get more into the spirit of it. So far the chief amuse¬ 
ments have been masked balls at the theatres, a fair and 
illuminations for the populace at the Piazza Navona, pro¬ 
menading, masked or unmasked, in the Corso, and the 
throwing of coriandoli. These little hollow 
Throwin g e° rian - p a q s Q f plaster, about the size of a pea, 

which burst when they fall, and scatter clouds 
of dust over the persons who are hit, have taken the place 
of the colored comfits of years ago, and are only permitted 
to be thrown on the first day or two of the carnival. Many 
temporary balconies and stands have been erected in the 
Corso, and decorated prettily. The royal one is in scarlet 
and white ; another is in sea-weed and coral; another dis¬ 
plays the American flag; and the whole length of the street 
is as bright as a variety of colors can make it. Yesterday 
a party of ladies and gentlemen, who occupied the royal 
balcony, showered some bushels of coriandoli and scores 
of bouquets on the people below, and, in return, received 
some back; but, as they were high up, they were not very 
easily reached. No carriages were allowed, and the Corso 
was thronged with walkers, though it was a work of peril to 
pass the coriandoli. Among others less noticeable, a tall, 
well-dressed man tried to cross the street, perhaps thinking 
he would escape remark and attention; but a masker, 
dressed as a young lady, sprang up with agility, and threw 
a pair of spindle-like arms round his neck. As soon as the 
daring adventurer had disentangled himself, four young men 
in the royal balcony were ready for him, and showered down 




CARNIVAL SEASON AT ROME. 


43 


More refined fea¬ 
tures. 


Sistine Chapel. 


scoops of coriandoli in succession, giving him a parting shot 
as he disappeared in the distance. 

'I'his laughter-provoking, but not very ele¬ 
gant amusement has now ceased, and this 
afternoon the more refined ones begin. 

On Sunday morning we went to the handsome Ameri¬ 
can church in the Via Nazionale. It is built in the Gothic 
style, in string-courses of red brick and white stucco; has 
stained-glass windows and a very fine dado in shades of 
green lightened with pink. The organ, which was very 
well played, is said to be the finest in Rome. 

I have been several times to the Sistine 
chapel, to see the famous frescoes of Michael 
Angelo. 'The entrance to the Vatican palace is defended 
by the Swiss guards, who are 'stationed within the great 
bronze door and at the foot of the grand staircase. This 
high flight of broad, shallow steps, as well as others, has to 
be mounted, and neither the beauty of the ceiling and walls, 
nor any genuine tourist enthusiasm, can lessen the fatigue 
of the ascent. At my first visit I had the chapel to myself, 
except for the company of the custodian and one of the 
huge cats in which Rome abounds; at the following ones, 
a constant stream of visitors passed through. 

A space the whole length of the ceiling is di¬ 
vided into compartments, in which Old Testa¬ 
ment history, from the creation onwards, is portrayed. In 
a vaulting at the sides and ends are the prophets and sibyls, 
and in the surrounding lunettes and arches are scenes from 
the lives of the ancestors of our Saviour. I should hardlv 
call it beautiful from a mere sight-seer’s point of view. The 
difficulty in getting a good position to examine each part, 
and the still greater difficulty of seeing the effect of the 


Ceiling. 


44 


MILDRED RUSSELL S LETTERS. 


whole, lessen its superficial value; but, from an artistic 
standpoint, nothing surpasses it that 1 have seen. 

On the east wall Michael Angelo painted 

The Last Judgment. . . ,, T T . ., , r , . 

his “Last Judgment, now defaced by time 
and ignorance, and the ghost of what it was when fresh from 
his hands. It has a blue ground, and on this, groups of 
angels hover; Christ, surrounded by saints and apostles, 
is in the middle; the dead are rising; and below, in ter¬ 
rible ghastliness, is the bottomless pit. These pictures are 
said by critics to be wonders of symmetrical arrangement in 
design, of compactness of thought and skill in depicting the 
human figure in the many twists and turns of which it is ca¬ 
pable ; but it takes a great deal of study to find out where 
these qualities lie. What impresses the mind of the tourist 
when the chapel is under examination, and his neck aches 
with gazing up at the ceiling, and his head is so heavy that 
he almost wishes it would drop off, and only a kind of re¬ 
ligious awe induces him to persevere, is, that he feels him¬ 
self in the presence of a vast company, who are affected by 
the strongest, and grandest, and deepest emotions that ever 
actuated men on earth, or the sublimest of beings in hea¬ 
ven, and not as the mere ideal creations of a genius, but as 
a living, impelling reality. 

On Saturday I was lucky enough to have 
K Pius^ix 1UaSS tG1 a ticket for the Sistine chapel, when a re¬ 
quiem was sung for the soul of Pius IX., 
the late Pope. We entered by the bronze door, where the 
Swiss guards were stationed, halberd in hand, and wear¬ 
ing their gay uniform of broad stripes of yellow and red 
and black, low shoes, and high, w 7 aving white plumes. 
Separately they looked fantastic, but en i?iasse the colors 
blended with excellent effect. 

e mounted the stairs to the royal salon , a magnificent 



CARNIVAL SEASON AT ROME. 


45 


frescoed apartment, where the palace guards, in military 
uniform of blue and gold, were on duty; and, passing the 
rank and file of these, we arrived at the chapel door, which 
was guarded by clerical-looking attendants, in lilac silk 
gowns. After entering the chapel, and passing more Swiss 
guards, we were received by the chamberlains, who assigned 
us excellent places, where we could see the whole cere- 
jnony. The chamberlains were dressed in black satin 
Spanish costumes of the fifteenth century, with a short 
cloak hanging from the shoulders, and some of them had 
innumerable orders and stars, and were courtly and hand¬ 
some men. No gentleman was admitted except in uni¬ 
form or evening dress, nor lady, except in black dress and 
veil. Those ladies not accustomed to wear veils were 
easily detected by the rigidity with which they had put 
them on, compared with the graceful swaying and floating 
arrangements of the habitual wearers. Many of the former 
were very much dissatisfied with their appearance, and as 
they sat on the sunny side of the chapel, and under the 
full glare, they were conscious of looking somewhat too 
penitential. Many church dignitaries were present—car¬ 
dinals, their violet trains borne by priests; heads of the 
Dominicans in white; Franciscans in black; others in 
brown; Armenian bishops, in high round caps; priests, in 
plain violet cassocks, and evidently men of importance, 
judging from the respect with which they were received. 
Distinguished civilians and diplomatists were there too, 
their sombre costume relieved by a blaze of decorations, 
and Knights of Malta, in scarlet uniforms, the white cross 
of their order tapering to the centre, and nearly covering 
the front of their gilt corselets. The clergy, prominent 
among them Cardinal Howard, filled the east end of the 
chapel, and were all seated before the Pope arrived. 


4 



46 


mildred russell’s letters. 


The Pope wore a silvered mitre and a 

Appearance of the ^ re q an( j w p^ e sa tin train and red vest- 
Pope. & 

ment, and presided over the service with a 
gentleness far removed from any semblance of the tyran¬ 
nizing power supposed to be wielded by the head of the 
Church, and gave the blessing at the end with less pomp 
than is often seen in an out-of-the-way country church. 
The music of the requiem was well rendered by a choir of 
men and boys, but the difficult soprano parts by a voice 
suspiciously like a woman’s. The solemnity culminated at 
the most sacred part of the service. The captain of the 
detachment of palace guards stationed within the screen 
raised his sword, and his men followed suit; the Swiss 
guards stood at attention; the Pope descended from his 
throne to the open space in front of the altar; then 
swords and halberds were lowered, and heads and knees 
bent, and all, his Holiness included, remained for a few 
moments in silent devotion, and soon afterwards dis¬ 
persed. 


In going out I saw several American 

A rn ppi pop 1 o /It pc 

• ladies, literary and fashionable, and busi¬ 
ness men wisely utilizing the bad times by taking a holi¬ 
day, and who had been in this comparatively small and 
essentially exclusive assembly, for which it was such a favor 
to obtain a ticket. 

Besides the manifold attractions in the heart of the city 
of Rome, several villas, or park-like gardens, situated just 
within the walls or close outside them, are thrown open to 
the public on certain days of the week, which are so ar¬ 
ranged that some can be visited each afternoon. Then 
they become the fashionable resorts for driving or walk¬ 
ing, according as they are suited for one or the other re¬ 
creation. 



CARNIVAL SEASON AT ROME. 


47 


Friday is the afternoon for driving in the 
Villa P a mphih d°- yjjj a p am phili Doria, the property ot 

Prince Doria; and many walkers are to be 
found there too, though the size of the place prohibits 
most people from seeing it well on foot. These grounds 
contain everything to make such a place perfect and de¬ 
light the eye—gardens laid out symmetrically, and gardens 
without any apparent plan; drives in the open, where the 
finest views can be had, and drives under thickly-shading 
avenues of stately evergreen forest trees; grottoes from 
which rush waterfalls, and lakes that reflect the whiteness 
of the swans swimming on them undimmed; turf of vivid, 
spotless green, and grassy slopes pied with daisies; purple 
anemones growing in the sun and violets in the shade, and 
welcome to be picked by all. We saw oxen at work, with 
horns a yard in length, and of the'meekest behavior; pea¬ 
cocks spreading their tails and screeching at the visitors, 
and silver pheasants darting in and out the sunlight. 
These are a few of the pleasant sights to be found in this 
charming villa; and besides, when we visited it, there was 
a gentle wind blowing, but only just blowing the delicious, 
balmy air, and coming more as a soft caress. Yet the 
Roman wind can change its character, and come down as 
a tramontane over the snowy heights, and then every one 
is shriveled up for a day or two, till the milder breeze 
comes back, and all nature expands again. 

I have had the folly to go to the hideous 
Among the dead. S p ec t ac l e s in the vaults of the Church of 

the Cappucini. They are in square divisions, open to¬ 
wards the walk which runs along the outer wall; and the 
bones of innumerable monks are piled up on three sides of 
them, and stuck to the ceilings; skulls, cross-bones, and 
every other kind in the human body, are formed into 


4 8 


mildred russell’s letters. 


niches and arches and columns, or stacked up in some or¬ 
namental design; and amid them, standing or reclining, 
are skeletons dressed in black, and labelled, and strongly 
suggestive of the Witch of Endor. In each division are 
tombs filled with earth from Jerusalem, and destined to be 
the first resting-place of one of the brotherhood after death, 
the one longest buried having to make way for the one 
most recently [dead. The sun shone brightly into this 
charnel-house as I walked through it, and rather height¬ 
ened its repulsiveness by force of contrast. 

East Sunday being the first of the carnival, the Villa 
Borghese grounds, outside the Porta del Popolo, where 
people drive on Sunday afternoons, presented a very gay 
scene. The carriages of the Queen, the leading aristo¬ 
cracy, and all the strangers who owned them or could hire 
them, were out, and thousands of walkers crowded the 
footpaths. 

The King was in a mail phaeton, at- 
11 tiorser ^ fa>t ten ded by an aide-de-camp, and drove his 
fast horses, and at the same time returned 
the cordial salutations made him by perpetually raising his 
hat with an ease that comes only of long practice, and 
with a frequency that must have greatly marred the plea¬ 
sure of driving. 


Models dancing. 


The models have congregated on the 
steps near the Via Sistina in greater num¬ 
bers than usual since the beginning of the carnival, and 
have their country cousins, in native dress, on a visit to 
them; so the dancing and frolicking go on more gaily than 
ever. Occasionally the fun is interrupted, and that is when 
the tambourine-player spies a spectator among the assem¬ 
bled lookers-on who will probably give a soldo or two; 
then the jingling suddenly ceases for a minute, but is 


HEIGHT OF THE CARNIVAL. 


49 


quickly re-commenced with renewed spirit. The dances 
have several steps and figures, and are generally begun 
with a lead round, kept up by means of fresh performers 
joining in when the first are tired, and end impromptu, at 
any moment and in any fashion. Mildred Russell. 


HEIGHT OF THE CARNIVAL. 

Rome, February 19, 1885. 

Rome has been showing herself in one of her numerous 
and distinctive characters, and has been laying aside all 
thoughts of a majestic past or a phoenix-like future, or 
even of the frantic efforts she is making to modernize her¬ 
self and bring herself to the level of her brand-new com¬ 
peers. She has been simply and solely bent on enjoying the 
carnival, with as much zest as if she were the most flippant 
of cities. 

Thursday dawned cold and threatening, but changed at 
noon into the very day for a fete, and became warm, but 
not hot. Fleecy, silvery clouds floated in the clear, blue 
sky, unnoticed, however, except by those who looked up at 
them to help them to decide if it were really worth while to 
succumb to the sudden rise in the price of balconies. And 
the result was, that every seat was occupied, and the 
Corso crammed with the populace. In preference to 
viewing the scenes from the balconies, many persons drive 
up and down in the procession, which is principally 
formed by the ornamental cars contributed by the differ¬ 
ent cities to compete for prizes. 

A party of four of us went in a carriage and found 
it great fun; and though this was our first carnival, we 
flatter ourselves we came off quite creditably. Provided 



5 ° 


mildred russell’s letters. 


with about fifty bouquets, and entering behind the Golden 
Shell from Naples, we received our first shots in the Battle 
of Flowers on our right hand. We returned them lan¬ 
guidly, and were just losing sight of these opponents when 
others attacked us from the left. Then a balcony opened 
fire, and we began to be warmed up, and before we moved 
many steps farther we had not h single bouquet left, either 
of our own or of those thrown to us. No matter. Bas- 
ketsful were to be bought at every moment from the 
flower-sellers close at hand, so we could allow ourselves to 
become enthusiastic, and give the parting shot as we 
passed on. 

At first we might have been taken for English people 
from our coolness and reserved manners; but soon the 
idea came to us that if others began to throw at us, why 
should not we allow ourselves the same gratification, and 
single out any one we chose. So, meek and mild as we 
might look, with the courage that comes by fighting, we 
tossed our flowers to the fairest and the less fair, who, I 
must own, were not far behind us in spirit. 

■ „ . „ We came to the royal box, but alas! at 

the moment there was not a bouquet in the 
carriage fit to lie at the feet of royalty when it comes 
in the shape of beauty, and three of us glared at the 
fourth, who had been so lavish over the last set of girls. 
A handful of violets was all we could send up, and they 
were too light to be thrown very high, and so, long before 
they reached Queen Margaret, they turned back and fell 
on us in a shower, and mingled with the pink and white 
comfits that were scattered on us. Our good humor was 
immediately restored by this pretty sight and by two 
flower sellers coming up at the same moment, and soon 
afterward we completed the turn up and down the Corso. 



HEIGHT OF THE CARNIVAL. 5 I 

Then we daclared we would rest and throw no more bou¬ 
quets, unless, of course, some one challenged us. So we 
made the circuit at the Piazza Venezia in dignified repose, 
supplying ourselves with more flowers, however, in case of 
emergency, and bitterly regretting not having all sorts 
of bonbons and favors and the pretty ornamental things, 
such as other people had pelted at us; but we were 
quite ignorant of what was customary, and besides, had 
been told that the Roman carnival was extinct, and so 
had given no heed to preparations for it. No sooner had 
we started again, after resolving to have no more of the 
battle, than we discovered we were remembered, and that 
parties were lying in wait for us in this our second turn. 
The flowers rained down on us, so we were compelled to 
join in more enthusiastically than ever till the procession 
ended, and we went reluctantly to dinner. 

But even one’s first day at the carnival is not unalloyed 
happiness, for more than half of the missiles fall short of 
the mark aimed at, and are ignominiously clutched at by 
the populace who crowd the Corso, or are even inter¬ 
cepted by them, and thus prevented from reaching their 
destination. To obviate these disappointments one gen¬ 
tleman had an ingenious instrument, made of crossed 
slats of wood, which could be extended five or six yards. 
On the end of it he placed the gifts he wish to present to 
any special person, and every one admired his ingenuity. 
The great drawback to his instrument was that it did not 
work well more than once in six or seven times, and the 
street boys made repeated and successful grabs at it when 
it did. But all sorts of liberties are allowed at the carni¬ 
val; and as it would have been of no use to remonstrate, 
the owner plodded away contentedly with a stolid perse¬ 
verance which was amusing. 


5 2 


MILDRED RUSSELL* S LETTERS. 


Some of the cars were beautiful. Venice 

Beautiful Cars. „ , , , , j r„i 

sent a gondola and a handsome and graceful 
set of amateur gondoliers, who received our choicest flowers 
in pleasant remembrance of days spent in their lovely city. 
A model of the Cathedral of Milan, with its clusters 
of spires, did ample justice to this pride of Gothic archi¬ 
tecture, and a golden shell from Sicily, wreathed with 
prickly-pear and carrying Mount Etna, surmounted by 
a Cupid, was supported by the sons of earth, whom mer¬ 
maids were trying to beguile. The Florentines con¬ 
tributed a fountain of flowers and the Gothic portal of the 
Bigallo, a refuge for deserted children. In this way they 
celebrated the childhood of Stenterello, a comic masque¬ 
rader of unknown parentage, a character created by Lan- 
dini and much appreciated by the Italians, and especially 
the Florentines. This car, artistically painted and deco¬ 
rated with witty sentences, was one of the most admired 
of the carnival. 

A group of artists were realistically attired as a 

Realism. o i 

troop of savages in the skins of animals. They 
carried spears and shields, and shouted a chorus of war- 
whoops as if they had been brought up to it as a profes¬ 
sion. They led a sacred elephant, bearing the image 
of the great god of their country, a monkey, and a snake, 
and seemed as if they certainly had come from the heart 
of Africa to spy out what this wondrous Rome might be 
whose fame had reached their distant home. They were 
adjudged one of the principal prizes for novelty of idea 
and admirable execution. There were many more cars, 
a goose from Rome, a collossal statue from Turin, a 
tower from Bologna, etc., and, among all these, bands 
of horsemen paraded in costumes of different centuries, 
and masqueraders on foot in endless variety of character. 



HEIGHT OF THE CARNIVAL. 


53 


In the evening there was a ball at court to which fifteen 
hundred guests were invited, and which is said to have 
been the most brilliant of the season. 

Between Thursday and Tuesday, the last 

Grand Illumi- , r . . . 

nation. day the carnival, there was throwing ot 
flowers to a small extent, and on Saturday 
a few of the cars paraded the Corso, while every evening 
masked balls took place at one or other of the theatres. 
The culminating point was on Tuesday, when the grand 
procession was repeated, and at dusk the whole was illu¬ 
minated with Bengal lights, and the moccoletti began. 
In the moccoletti every one has a lighted taper, and 
attempts to put out every one else’s taper, either by throw¬ 
ing flowers or blowing at it; and when the tapers are 
extinguished, the relighting has to be accomplished by 
stratagem, as no one is willing to assist a fallen enemy. 
These myriads of tiny lights, glimmering close at hand 
and in the distance, and diminishing in size and clearness 
till they become a confused mass, resemble the milkyway 
in the heavens. The laughter and the fun are indescriba¬ 
ble. King Carnival is usually burned in the evening, but 
this year he was only carried without the gates, and the 
public amusements ended with fireworks on the Pincio, 
which crowds of people congregated to witness. But far 
into the next morning the gay revellers made the streets 
resound with song and laughter, and seemed to grudge 
the daylight of Ash-Wednesday, which called them to pro¬ 
saic or penitential life. Betimes in the churches the 
priests were ready with ashes, and sprinkled first their own 
heads and then those of the devotional members of their 
flocks; and the conscientious sight-seers, who had come to 
explore Rome and gape at her and understand her as 
best they might, have returned to the rugged paths of their 


54 


Mildred russell’s letters. 


pilgrimage, looking back, however, at times without the 
slightest contrition at the precious hours wasted in the 
folly and mirth of the carnival. Mildred Russell. 


UNDER ITALIAN SKY. 


Leaving Rome. 


Genoa, Feb. 27, 1885. 

In comparing notes with other travellers, 
I find that scarcely any one who has not 
caught fever leaves Rome for the first time without a fixed 
determination to return at the earliest possible moment; 
and whilst making my preparations for departure, all kinds 
of plans for coming back kept running through my head, 
and refused to be ignored. In spirit I drank gallons of the 
water from the beautiful fountain of Trevi, which, report 
says, does not fail to secure a future visit for those who go 
and drink of its streams in firm faith of its mysterious 
power. Still, fearing the spell might be broken, I must 
confess I tried hard to play the malingerer, and be left be¬ 
hind; but it was no use. A ruthless fate tore me away, 
yet, repentant of its sternness, has landed me in pleasant 
quarters. 

On our way from Rome to Pisa, we passed through the 
Campagna, where the malarious water showed itself in 
spots through the short grass, and in the sunlight looked 
like patches of fluffy cotton. Then the railway lay through 
the Maremma, a stretch of flat, swampy and woody coun¬ 
try, devoted to cattle-grazing from autumn to spring, but 
uninhabitable in summer from its unhealthfulness, which 
forces the people to betake themselves to the hills as soon 
as the warm weather sets in. 




UNDER ITALIAN SKY. 


55 


We had many glimpses of the sea, so soft 

Sketches by the an q s qq as to resem ble the sky on a cloud- 
way. J 

less day, and just before reaching Orbetello 
the two peaks of Mt. Argentario became visible. They 
protrude so far into the water that, at first sight, hazy and 
dim, they were like a distant island; then, becoming dis¬ 
tinct, they towered up close by us, looking more imposing 
by contrast with the numerous small rocky islets which 
clustered at their base. Soon afterwards we came to Ce- 
cina, from whence a branch line runs to Saline for the con¬ 
venience of the mining and salt districts. At Cecina we 
took leave of the gorgeous sapphire sea, and passed on to 
Pisa, through a country with few visible attractions. 

The objects of interest to travellers in Pisa are the Ca¬ 
thedral, the Leaning Tower, or Campanile, the Baptistery, 
and the Campo Santo, or ancient burial-ground, which are 
all situated in the Cathedral piazza, and form a fine collec¬ 
tion of buildings. Less crowded together than is usually 
the case with groups of buildings, they are the pride and 
boast of Pisa and the admiration of sight-seers and art- 
lovers. 'The high, crenelated city wall forms one side of 
the large open square, the Campo Santo a second, and 
houses and shops the remaining ones. 

Though not deserving the greatest ad- 
TheLeaning Towei. m j ra q on q ie f our objects of beauty and 

renown in Pisa, the Leaning Tower absorbed our attention 
first. It leans so much that, considering it was completed 
in 1350, though begun two hundred years before, it is a 
wonder it has not toppled over long ago, and it is no use 
maintaining that it remains standing on fixed scientific prin¬ 
ciples of gravity; the most that can be said in its favor is 
that it once decided on falling flat, and then suddenly 
changed its mind. The effect of looking upwards under 


56 


mildred russell’s letters. 


the sloping-over side is rather unpleasant, and in mounting 
the interior it is something like walking on shipboard and 
balancing the body first to one side and then to another, 
according to the inclination of the ship. The outside is of 
marble, and is built in eight stories, adorned with columns 
and half columns; and however much people may dispute 
over the reason why the tower leans, none will dispute over 
its beauty. 

The Cathedral—beautiful too, and surpris- 
The cathedral, perfect—is of white marble, ornamented 

with the same material in black and colors. Its fa<^ade is 
formed in stories; the lowest has columns and arches which 
adjoin the building, and four above have open galleries, 
the whole being light and graceful, as well as unique. 

In the interior are sixty-eight massive Greek and Roman 
columns, war spoils of the Pisans at the time of their great¬ 
est supremacy, from the eleventh to the thirteenth cen¬ 
turies, and the time during which these four buildings were 
erected. These columns, seen from different points of 
view in the church, show how fine an effect may be made 
by their disposition in the basilica style. 

The Campo Santo is of importance in 

Campo Santo. . . 

studying renaissance art, as paintings of the 
early part of the fourteenth century are on its walls. 
Though authorities disagree as to whose work they are, it 
is certain the best are by men who had true artistic genius, 
and who allied themselves with those painters who had be¬ 
gun to throw off the trammels which bound their prede¬ 
cessors to imitate the productions of a former age. They 
evidently studied nature, and aided in developing the re¬ 
presentation of the finer and subtler qualities of humanity. 

The Campo Santo is a parallelogram, one hundred and 
thirty-seven yards long, fifty-seven wide, and sixteen yards 



UNDER ITALIAN SKY. 


57 


high, and is entered through the blank wall bounding one 
side of the piazza. The height and length of the inside of 
the four walls of this structure afford ample opportunity for 
frescoes of large size. 'The most noted is the “Triumph of 
Death,” said by some to be by Andrea Orcagna. It is a 
realistic treatment of the subject, where Death is seizing on 
victims with strict impartiality. Some, absorbed in a life of 
pleasure, and contented with it, are terribly unwilling to ac¬ 
company the relentless tyrant; but those who are weighed 
down by misery, or have aspired to a brighter world by re¬ 
ligious duties faithfully performed, welcome him with joy; 
while a party of hunters are aghast at being confronted 
with some unclosed coffins which hem their way. The 
centre of the Campo is nearly all of earth brought from 
the Holy Land in Pisan ships, in conformity with a reli-' 
gious sentiment that it would then be a more fitting resting- 
place for great men. This part is surrounded by open ar¬ 
cades, supported on columns, and is now covered with 
grass, where narcissus, jonquils, violets, and other flowers 
were blooming when we were there, and little brown lizards 
were basking in the warmth of the sun, or running in and 
out of the cracks of the walls. This building contains many 
ancient monuments and some modern ones, and among 
the latter is a bass-relief by Thorwaldsen to the oculist An¬ 
drea Vacca, of Tobias, curing his father’s blindness. 

The rusty old iron chains once stretched 

Historic chains. . . . r 1 i • . • 

across the harbor or Pisa hang here in tri¬ 
umph, and do not look the important objects they were 
when the victorious Genoese carried them off in the seven¬ 
teenth’'century with so much satisfaction. One was re¬ 
stored to the Pisans in 1848 by the Florentines, to whom 
the Genoese had given it, and the other in i860, by the 
Genoese themselves, when patriotic unity and enthusiasm 


5 


5« 


Mildred russell’s letters, 


decreed there was to be none but friendly rivalry between 
the two sea-ports. 

In the round, dome-covered Baptistery, there is a six- 
sided marble pulpit, with bass-reliefs of the thirteenth cen¬ 
tury, carved by Nicolo Pisano, one of the earliest renais¬ 
sance sculptors. It stands on seven pilasters, raised at dif¬ 
ferent heights from the ground on the backs of various ani¬ 
mals, and, considering its date, is a wonderful production. 
A man with a good voice has adopted the profession of 
awakening the echoes in the Baptistery, and sings a few 
bars, which rise higher and higher in the dome, and die 
away so softly as almost to prevent detecting the last vi¬ 
bration. 

In the old part of the town is a curious, 

Piirionc ofrppf 

narrow, and irregularly-winding street, where 
the houses are high and project their first stories, which are 
supported on arches and columns, over the sidewalks, and 
give the street a likeness to a long ecclesiastical edifice 
open to the sky, and the crowds walking up and down 
rather heighten the impression. The market is close by it, 
and m the early morning was full of tempting fresh fruits 
and vegetables. I bought four oranges for six cents; I 
know I was cheated in this trade, but a handful of dried 
figs for a cent was reasonably cheap, especially as they 
were good. 

The Pisans loiter about in groups as the other Italians 
do, but the present generation has not arrived at that stage 
of civilization when such a proceeding is thoroughly en¬ 
joyed, and they go through it in a listless, vacant way, as if 
it were something new, and they did not know what to 
make of it. 

We went out to see the royal shooting-lodge, about two 
miles from Pisa. The house is not large, and the stables 






UNDER ITALIAN SKY. 


59 


and out-buildings being placed in front of it cause it to re¬ 
semble a business establishment rather than a pleasure re¬ 
treat for royalty. Herds of deer were grazing outside the 
extensive and beautiful pine plantations, and other game is 
said to be plentiful. Alterations were being made to a 
race-track in the grounds, and a number of camels were 
carrying earth in panniers to it, and looked stupid and un¬ 
kempt creatures. 

After taking the train again, we were soon at Spezia, 
where the Riviera, or the coast of the Gulf of Genoa, be¬ 
gins, and we were able to see many of the beautiful views 
on it from the railway—the calm, deep blue sea spreading 
out to the horizon on one side, a succession of villages on 
the other, numberless promontories jutting out, through 
which the cars plunge in darkness to emerge to fresh scenes 
of loveliness, made up of rocky headlands, orange groves, 
palms, and the bright moon shedding light enough for 
them all to be seen clearly, besides throwing over them a 
bewitching glamor. 

Genoa has streets of palaces, chiefly built in 
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries for the 
proud nobles of this commercial and maritime city. The 
Garibaldi has only palaces in it, and among them the Mu¬ 
nicipal has the handsomest exterior; and farther on in the 
Balbi is the University, with a court and staircase famed 
as the finest in Genoa, and then follows the Royal Palace. 
The street of the goldsmiths is full of shops, where gold and 
silver filigree articles are sold. Pall candelabra, their size 
made elegant by graceful clusters of flowers and leaves; 
fairy-like card-baskets; fans, light, yet strong; decorations 
for the neck, and bracelets,—are a few of them. 

Though Genoa has no such claim to beauty as Venice,— 
her rival on the sea and her conqueror,—she is a beautiful 


6o 


mildred russell’s letters. 


city. The town is built on one side of the half-moon- 
shaped harbor, and up the slopes behind, where the luxu¬ 
rious vegetation of the district makes itself visible at every 
point. Its magnificent palaces, wide streets, and busy 
population impress on the passing traveller that enterprise 
and intelligence, aided by the advantages of climate and 
position, have here been eminently successful. 

Mildred Russell. 


FROM GENOA TO MONTE CARLO. 


Monte Carlo, April , 1885. 


From Genoa our way lay along the Riviera, on the west¬ 
ern shore of the gulf, which has something of the same 
character as the eastern part, except that it is more luxu¬ 
riant in vegetation, villas are more frequent, and as we 
proceed, fashionable seaside towns follow quickly on one 
another. 


The Gardens The we ^ ^ept gardens at Monte Carlo are 
on uneven ground, and afford a wide range of 
sheltered and sunny positions, suitable for plants and trees 
collected from all parts of the world. Beds of choice 
roses are the most attractive flowers in bloom now, and 
these, and other flowers and sweet-scented bushes, charge 
the air so heavily with perfumes morning and evening as 
to be at times almost intolerable, though in the middle of 
the day they are pleasant enough. There are many walks 
through the gardens, some winding up and down, others 
leading to the broad, handsome terraces overlooking the 
sea, and others sheltered from the least breath of sea-air. 


FROM GENOA TO MONTE CARLO. ()i 

i'he benches in the last ones are the favorite resorts of 
the visitors with coughs and troublesome lungs. 

The casino The Casino, a handsome building with elabo¬ 
rate exterior and interior decorations, contains 
a theatre, reading, gambling, and other rooms. It faces 
the sea and occupies the chief situation in the place, and 
round it the principal hotels and gardens are grouped- 
The authorities exercise rigid supervision over all per" 
sons in it; they strictly prohibit the young under cge 
from entering the gambling-rooms, and compel strangers 
to obtain a permit for each visit. Having shown the 
ticket at one of the doors in the foyer, the visitor is al¬ 
lowed to pass, and the first impression is, that if gambling is 
objectionable, it is also remarkably stupid. The air in the 
rooms is so impure as to be sickening, and the quietness 
in them is remarkable, considering their vast size and how 
many people are congregated. The cry, “Place your 
stakes,” or the call of the winning numbers and colors is 
so low and uniform, as to be scarcely distinguished except 
by practiced or keenly interested ears. The raking in of 
the money causes a curious, dull clanking, heard distinctly in 
the gloomy silence, and is done smoothly and deftly, and 
with as little concern for the money's real value as if it 
were crumbs being swept off a dinner table. And so much 
of the money is gathered in, no wonder admittance is free 
to concert and gardens. In the first room there are two 
roulette-tables, in the second there are four, and in the 
last two trelite et qnarante. At the roulette the lowest 
stake is one dollar, and the highest twelve hundred dol¬ 
lars ; at the treute et quarante the lowest is four dollars, 
and the highest six thousand dollars. 

'The losses and gains are greatest on the 

Greatest Losses 0 

and Gains. treute et quarante , and in a few minutes 


62 


mildred russell’s letters. 


thousands of dollars change hands. Larger sums are 
made at one stroke at roulette in comparison with the 
amount of single stakes placed, but the risk is much 
greater and the winning rarer. 

At each table from five to seven men belonging to the 
bank and eighteen players sit, and behind them spectators 
and players stand and bend over them two or three deep. 
The bank officials have the most stolid air, and some 
of them seem on the way to idiocy, judging from the 
mechanical and dreary way in which they go through their 
duties. Now and then one falls half asleep, and wakes up 
to rake in the gains or give out the losses, and then drops 
off and nods again. All things considered, it is difficult to 
see why these men should be demoralized and worn-out 
looking beings, for their work is not hard, unless, indeed, 
they sit up all night after people have gone and play 
against each other for excitingly high stakes, or have to 
turn policemen and guard the spoil. They are polite and 
forbearing, and strictly just towards the public according to 
the rules of the game. 

One of them acts as umpire, and against his de- 

Umpii’e. ... & 

cision there is no appeal. If two players claim the 
stakes in the excitement of the game, the umpire usually set¬ 
tles the dispute with ironical good nature by ordering the 
bank to pay both parties, possibly out of firm confidence in his 
side winning most of the money back again. When anything 
is wanted, a croupier taps on a little bell, and the one of the 
many attendants in livery scattered through the rooms who 
happens to be nearest at the moment, claps his hands 
gently in return, and hastens to ask what is wanted. If 
money has been dropped on the floor and rolled under the 
table, as is frequently the case, he fetches a little lantern 
and a long crook, and with their help recovers the lost 





FROM GENOA TO MONTE CARLO. 


63 

coin, after having, Charon-like, first dislodged the people 
who are crowding round. These attendants have the air 
ol keepers in a lunatic asylum, and seem to be rejoicing 
that things are going so quietly, and that there is no need 
tor them to interfere. Some ot them have caught the 
tricks of their patients, and mutter and gesticulate, and 
many of the staff of the Casino look not unlike men who 
are in constant dread of some crazy individual blowing 
them up with dynamite. Then several officials in plain 
clothes perambulate about and go at intervals from one ta¬ 
ble to another and turn their eyes on each visitor in succes¬ 
sion, while pretending to be interested in nothing particu¬ 
lar. These produce the effect on one of being closely 
watched by human cats. The sharp scrutiny that has to 
be submitted to before a ticket is issued, and the careful 
examination of it when it is presented afterwards, strike a 
stranger as having some similarity to passing before a com¬ 
mission of luna.cy. Then, when in the rooms, there is 
plenty of space for many more persons than are in them, 
and surprise is created as to why an extra one is so sternly 
refused admittance. Altogether, the way things are con¬ 
ducted here may be described as queer. 

The intentness with which players and look- 
The piajtis. erg _ on watc p the g ame i s extreme, as well as are 

their utter absorption in it and complete isolation. While a 
few groups of three or four may be seen, or two friends may 
be playing on their joint advice, more generally single indi¬ 
viduals enter, and stand and watch the game, or wait till 
ther£ is a vacant place at the table. The play deprives 
the participators in it of all sociability. Many try to follow 
a system and mark down the order of the winning num¬ 
bers and colors on cards prepared for the purpose. Then 
they compare several of these together and strike an 


J • 1 V 

64 MILDRED RUSSELL’S LETTERS. 

average, I suppose, or something of the sort. Here and 
there, throughout the rooms, a man or woman is sitting 
apart and studying lists of figures, which doubtless repre¬ 
sent one of the many systems for infallibly gaining. The 
deep cunning on the faces of some of them makes them 
look as if they were bent on cheating the infernal prince 
himself. 

The players are fairly well dressed as a rule, and fewer 
than I expected are rowdy-looking. But there is one 
curious effect produced on all who walk about the gam¬ 
bling-rooms, and that is a deterioration in personal appear¬ 
ance. Men and women, elsewhere of distinguished and 
even aristocratic air, lose their refinement apparently, 
perhaps from being mixed up among so many of a coarse 
and common type, or perhaps from the worst in them 
coming to the surface at the moment. A few have anx¬ 
ious and distressed faces, as if they were on tenter-hooks 
of dread expectation; and in this spot of forcible realism 
many are probably undergoing agonies of feeling that 
would ennoble a good cause. Yet it is not till observa¬ 
tion is fixed on some special player that the 
^he^Gams ^ orce the grip the game has upon its votaries 
becomes visible. 

All sorts of people are seen gambling here, and some with 
the most innocent faces are devoted to it. An old lady, 
whom the most exacting on the score of desirable looking 
relatives would approve of as a grandmother, visits the tables 
every day. Men, immaculate as to dress and outward style, 
stroll in and play for a few minutes and pass out again. 
Bearers of well-known English titles, French counts and 
German barons, army-officers and successful business-men, 
are sprinkled through the rooms, but the majority of the 
players are of no standing in society. There are few 


i 



FROM GENOA TO MONTE CARLO. 


65 


Americans. Whether it is their good sense, or the bad 
times, or that our countrymen with gambling inclinations 
find freer scope in the stock market at home, I do not 
know; but the fact remains, and English, French, and 
a few Germans and Russians, compose the main body of 
the gamblers. 

Numbers, having very small sums of money, do not 
hesitate to risk them. An English woman, almost with 
tears in her eyes, told us that she had lost twenty-five dol¬ 
lars in a week. There are dozens of this class. They- 
are neatly and plainly dressed, and evidently belong to re¬ 
spectable families, and their only ambition is to make 
a few francs without the trouble of working for them. 

Then there are the real gamblers, who 

The Real Gamblers. . . 

love the intense excitement ot the game, 
and throw themselves into it with all the energy of heart * 
and soul. They play for high stakes, and for the highest 
allowed, on the rare occasions when they can raise them. 
Alter they have lost everything, they wander disconsolately 
about the rooms for a couple of days or watch others 
play, then they generally manage to find up a little money 
and start afresh on the same old round till the final col" 
lapse comes. Some of the habitues , who play only with 
large bills, sit with rolls of them before them, and win and 
lose without the slightest outward sign of disturbance, 
except a trembling of the hands which hardly amounts 
to more than a quiver. When the new and younger ones 
first begin this reckless play, they are at once detected by 
their excited looks, flushed faces, and quick breathing. A 
lady, whose funds to begin with were a joint contribution 
of her own money and that of friends, played for about an 
hour one afternoon at treute et quarante with 1,000-franc 
bills ($200) and won $5,000. She was clearly used to 


66 


mildred russell’s letters. 


winning and losing, and took her success calmly, while 
others were anxious over the loss or gain of the lowest 
stakes. 


. „ The next day a stout, short-necked 

man became very much excited after hav¬ 
ing gained a roll of thousand-franc bills at treute et quar~ 
ante. He left his seat and staked three or four notes at 
each turn of the game; then, during the time the cards 
were being dealt, he walked up and down rubbing his 
hands and drying his face with his handkerchief. Some¬ 
times he listened eagerly for the announcement of which 
side had won, and sometimes, not daring to listen, he 
walked out of ear-shot, and afterwards came up and peered 
over the shoulders of the other players to see whether his 
notes had been swept away or not. When he lost he was 
terribly cast down, and when he won he became more 
excited than ever, till at last it was distressing to look at 
him. Scarcely any one took any notice of him, as all 
were too much interested in their own affairs, and though 
he had won a great deal of money, it was not enough to 
arouse general attention. But one night, when a Russian 
was winning enormously at roulette and ended by gaining 
$40,000, the people rushed up to the table where he was 
and stood six deep trying to see him. He was considered 
a hero by some, as he walked off with the promissory note the 
table gave him for a part of the money in consequence of 
not being able to spare the whole at the moment. Since 
then there has been unusual liveliness at roulette in spite 
of the Russian having lost all his gains a few days after¬ 
wards. 

Different traits come out undisguised in different players. 
Some are polite to those near them, others are churlish; 
some allow their register-cards to be copied willingly, 


I 


fROM GENOA TO MONTE CARLO. 67 

others refuse to permit any one to see them, and hide 
them with their hands. Occasionally excitement spreads 
rapidly from one to another, as if they were, in truth, 
lunatics, and each made the other more crazy. But as a 
rule the players and playing are of the most humdrum 
and monotonous type; and were it not for the few excep¬ 
tions and for knowing the folly that is involved, an unini¬ 
tiated person would not guess there was much more harm 
in gambling at Monte Carlo than a waste of time on a 
stupid, dull occupation, that hardly rises to the level of an 
amusement. 

After watching the tables for a few days, the great mis¬ 
take on the part of the players is found out: they never 
know when to leave off and are never satisfied with their 
gains. Those to whom a couple of hundred dollars is an 
important sum of money, and the entire capital at their 
disposal, are not content with making fifty, but must try 
to double or even treble it. They succeed in doing this 
once in a while, but still they are not satisfied. They en¬ 
deavor to make still more, and end in losing everything. 
Some put great faith in this or that system. 

As I was sitting on one of the benches v by 

jLicici (i system. 

the sea, a poorly-dressed woman came up and 
began a conversation on the state of the weather, and 
then proceeded to inquire if I gambled. She told me 
her husband had been at work fifteen hours a day for ten 
years, and had at last perfected a system by which success 
was certain, and that he only needed more capital to 
carry it out, and was seeking a partner. The poor crea¬ 
ture was evidently a tool in other people’s hands, so I re¬ 
frained from giving her my opinion on the subject—a reti¬ 
cence which was stern self-denial on my part. 

The theatre is used also as a concert-room, where an 


68 


mildred russell’s letters. 


orchestra of about sixty well-trained performers gives con¬ 
certs twice daily throughout the year. Their repertoire is 
good and extensive, and attracts audiences of refined and 
cultivated musical taste from the neighboring Riviera 
towns as well as from Monte Carlo itsolf. Many persons 
go from the gaming-rooms to the concerts, and stay to 
hear one piece, and then retire and often reappear before 
the close of the performance. Some use the concert hall 
as a lounging-place, and there are always people asleep 
while the music is playing, even in the afternoon. 'This 
hall or theatre is handsomely decorated in the Moorish 
style, and the chairs are large and luxurious, so that each 
of the audience can sit in comfort. The Prince of 
Monaco, like other royal personages, has the finest box 
appropriated to his use. It is opposite the stage, and ex¬ 
tends the full width of the theatre. 

Except for the Casino, Monte Carlo is a place with few 
resources in the way of amusement. Enthusiastic pedes¬ 
trians, mostly Englishmen with heavy-soled boots, climb 
the hills in the neighborhood, and from the favorite one, 
“La Turbie,” are paid for their toil by a magnificent view. 
Those persons who are fond of driving make expeditions 
along the old and new Corniche roads. 

It has been really hot for the past week, and were it not 
for a slight, treacherous wind that blows intermittenly over 
unsheltered spots we might be deluded into thinking 
summer had come. As it is, many visitors have gone 
northward, hoping to find warm, spring weather there, be¬ 
cause the sun is in full glory at Monte Carlo. 

Mildred Russell. 


FROM BEAULIEU TO PARIS AND LONDON. 


69 


FROM BEAULIEU TO PARIS AND LONDON. 

London, May , 1885. 

We spent the greater part of our last few days in the 
Riviera in the open air, and made the most of our good 
luck in being surrounded with fields of roses and groves 
of orange-trees in blossom. At the same time we gave a 
pitying thought to friends in London and Paris, who were 
complaining of bitter'cold winds and even snow. 

Some of the residents at Beaulieu, our last halting place, 
add materially to their income by growing fiowers, princi¬ 
pally roses and pinks, for the winter market in London, 
Northern France, and Germany. They raise many palm- 
trees also, and other ornamental plants, which they dis¬ 
patch northward for house and conservatory use. Even 
ladies devote a great deal of time to gardening, and are 
rewarded by being pictures of heathfulness, though in 
some cases their domestic arrangements suffer from lack 
of supervision. 

_ . ,One house we visited, which was owned 

and inhabited by some Germans of rank, 
amused us very much. The whole family, including sev¬ 
eral dogs, lived out of doors almost exclusively, and were 
absorbed in gardening. The garden was kept in perfect 
order, and contained many choice kinds of roses, pinks 
and other flowers destined for market. In-doors every¬ 
thing was in confusion, though a good library and several 
pretty and artistic objects showed that refined taste was 
not absent. Dogs of all sizes followed the hostess up 
and down stairs in spite of her having recourse to the evi¬ 
dently unusual proceeding of shutting the front door on 
them. She apologized for the untidiness of the rooms by 
saying she was so much occupied with her flowers, and 
6 


7 ° 


mildred russell’s letters. 


that none of the family came into the house except to eat 
and sleep; and we quite agreed with her that it was fool¬ 
ish to waste time on housekeeping in such a climate. 
There was an atmosphere of attractive simplicity around 
this idyllic life, and it was plain these charming people had 
slipped into it from a conventional one, as their manner 
and general style showed they had been used to the forms 
of polished society. We took leave of our amiable host 
and hostess more than half in love with the Arcadia they 
had made for themselves. 

„ . Bidding adieu to the Riviera, we started 

Starting for Pans. _ ° 

for Paris via Marseilles, and made the jour¬ 
ney in twenty-two hours. 

We bolted a hurried dinner at Marseilles station, and 
afterwards envied two sensible travellers, an old lady and 
her daughter, who had brought theirs with them. After 
eating it at leisure, they told their beads, said their prayers, 
and went to sleep with the utmost unconcern as to on¬ 
lookers. The daughter woke up in a quarter of an hour 
to inquire if we were in Paris, and being pshawed at by 
her mother, resigned herself to sleep again. Both of them 
slept like tops, and presented an unruffled appear¬ 
ance next morning. They made an early breakfast 
on bread and wine, told their beads again, and brought 
out their knitting. 

We stayed a couple of weeks in Paris, to see the salon , 
and then proceeded to London. 

We were lucky in our choice of a day for crossing the 
channel from Boulogne to Folkestone. The sea was 
calm and the wind soft, so we were spared the pitching 
and tossing usually in store for this short transit, which 
concentrates into a couple of hours all the agonies of an 
Atlantic voyage. We thought England was looking her 


FROM BEAULIEU TO PARIS AND LONDON. 


71 


best as we went to London through the county of Kent. 
The pink and white hawthorn bushes were in flower, the 
trees just in their first full foliage, and all nature was 
fresh and smiling. We went by many typical English 
places—here a larga, country-house, surrounded by exten¬ 
sive ornamental grounds skirted, by a park; there a farm¬ 
house, shaded by trees and standing in the centre of well- 
cultivated fields; then a village of red tiled cottages, with 
their trim little gardens in front and the church-spire or 
tower rising from the midst; and lining the railway were 
fields as neat as gardens, and hedges cut with surprising 
symmetry and exactness, or, at rare intervals, left to grow 
untrained and overshadow the lanes, gay with wild flowers. 
The misty atmosphere that tones down all precision of 
outline struck us forcibly again after the clearer one to 
which we had almost become accustomed 

, „ „ Kent is noted for its apple-orchards and 

Apples ana Hops.- L 

hop-fields, and as we came through it many 
fruit-trees were in blossom and the hops were just starting 
up the poles. 

Though London is by no means a new acquaintance to 
any of our present party, we could not repress a certain 
thrill of exultation as we entered this grimy, sober city, 
with its gloomy skies and quiet-mannered people. We 
had left the lands of gestures and easily-raised excitement, 
and had come to one / too solid and matter-of-fact to in¬ 
dulge in any such vague way of expression. I might call 
it a land ignorant of margins! 

We saw the coach parade in Hyde Park on June 1st, 
when twenty-three coaches turned out in pretty good style. 
This park is in the heart of fashionable London, and, be¬ 
ing of easy access, is thronged every day with carriages, 
ladies and gentlemen on horseback, and others sitting on 



72 


mildred russell’s letters. 


chairs, which are placed in rows by the side of the drives 
and the riding-road called “The Row.” The carriages 
were drawn up in lines four deep on Monda/ for a con¬ 
siderable distance, and we were lucky in securing a good 
place for seeing. The procession started at a round trot, 
and as the day was fine, the sight was really pretty, and 
many of the horses were superb and well-driven. 

Most of the coaches drove down to Hurlingham, a club 
in the suburbs of London, where luncheon was taken. 
The club-house stands in a large park, studded with old 
trees. The Thames flows on one side of it; polo-grounds 
occupy another; close to these is a pigeon-shooting en¬ 
closure, and the rest of the space is taken up with shady 
walks, tennis-courts, and terraces used as cafes. There 
are dining and reception-rooms, having outlooks on the 
park and gardens; but dinners, luncheons, and afternoon 
teas are usually served on the terraces or under the shade 
of the old trees that abound 

Poio-days On polo-days hundreds of fashionable people 
go to Hurlingham. and it is then a gay sight. 
On off-days it is a delightful retreat for a few who are 
often only too thankful to go out for an hour of as tho¬ 
rough rest and quiet as could be had in the depths of the 
country. We saw the exciting game of polo played one 
afternoon. Horses and men enjoyed it thoroughly, judg¬ 
ing by the spirited way they went at it; and it seemed al¬ 
most a miracle that any of them came out of the melee 
alive. Before beginning the game the players mount their 
horses and ride up and down a few times and try their mallet 
and ball, When they start the game, the ball is thrown mid¬ 
way between the two goals, and each side tries to give the 
first stroke. Sometimes the ball is sent swiftly spinning 
along the ground towards one goal, a horseman is able to 


FROM BEAULIEU TO PARIS AND LONDON. 7 j 

get at it before the others come up, and strikes it back 
over their heads towards the opposite one, and then all rush 
madly after it. Sometimes the ball alights in the midst of 
the riders, and I suppose they dodge it, for nobody cares. 
One of them sends it forward and all dash headlong after 
it again. They generally play at very close quarters—so 
close, indeed, that, seen from a distance, there is little 
clear space to strike in. It is a great pleasure to see how 
well the men ride and how easily the horses are controlled. 

At times they are walloping along in one di 

Raring Spec I. . / b 1 b ® 

rection at racing speed after the ball, and it 
looks as if it were impossible they should stop themselves 
in less than half a mile. The sight makes one hold one’s 
breath and feel sure the riders cannot prevent themselves 
going through the surrounding enclosure, whether it is 
a brick wall or woods, or the mass of on-lookers sitting 
rows deep in chairs. But not so Before one has time to 
finish thinking that they must positively dash into some¬ 
thing or other, they have turned round and are tearing 
wildly in another direction. Occasionally the mallets fly 
out of the players’ hands, or the heads of the mallets come 
off, and go whizzing through the air, but these casualties 
are unheeded, except by the loser, who picks up his mallet 
in a trice, or gallops off for a new one, and joins again in 
the game with greater zest than before. Probably it looks 
a more dangerous game than it is. The long mallets 
swing round in the air and deal formidable blows on the 
ball, and it is not easy to see how men or horses escape 
being seriously hurt, but somehow they usually do. Of 
course sad accidents occur occasionally. Polo is hard 
work, owing to the speed at which it is played, but the 
excitement and enjoyment the players find in it are ample 
rewards. 


74 


Mildred russell’s letters. 


It is impossible to walk ten minutes in London without 
noticing the absence of plan in its building, and the end¬ 
less string of names necessary for the number of short 
streets, which run at all angles to each other, and form 
a bewildering and inextricable maze to a stranger. It 
is less noisy than New York or Paris, owing principally 
to the wood pavement, though the Londoners themselves 
make many complaints on that score. The great diffi¬ 
culty is to choose what to do among the many attractions 
offered, especially when one’s object is not ordinary sight¬ 
seeing, for concerts, picture-galleries and theatres by the 
dozen are going on at the same time. The truly cosmo¬ 
politan character of this city and its occupations are strik¬ 
ing, and almost amount to its being the home of every 
nationality, and a warehouse for the productions of every 
soil. Mildred Russell. 


A TRIP UP THE THAMES. 

London, June 25, 1885. 

We accepted an invitation to join a party of friends 
who were going to make a trip up the Thames in a steam- 
launch, and in that way we had an opportunity for enjoy¬ 
ing a holiday peculiarly and essentially a Londoner’s. We 
started from Paddington, one of the London stations, at 
nine o’clock, and went as far as Taplow by train, then took 
a cab, and in a few minutes we were at Maidenhead, 
where the launch lay. 

We went on board at ten o’clock, laden with umbrellas, 
waterproofs and rugs, which the sky at our early start had 
deluded us into bringing. However, we consoled our¬ 
selves with thinking it might have rained deluges. 




A TRIP UP THE THAMES. 


75 


A great many locks are necessary in the Thames be¬ 
cause of the fall of the water, and to prevent the land 
being flooded. These locks are a great nuisance to plea¬ 
sure-seekers under any circumstances, as they retard pro¬ 
gress, and much time is wasted in passing through them. 
Though of ample size to accommodate ordinary demands, 
there is often tedious waiting on a holiday before all can 
enter, and it is not unusual to have a delay of an hour 
if it is fine. As we were bent on making the most of our 
trip, and going up the river at least as far as Medmenham, 
we determined to hurry forward so as not to be kept waiting 
at the beginning longer than absolutely necessary. All 
of our party had not yet arrived; but those who had, 
leaving word for the rest to drive along the bank, has¬ 
tened on to the first lock, which is usually the most 
crowded, so as to pass through before the next train-load 
of people claimed it. Another reason why we thought it 
better to do this was, that the row-boats have a right 
of precedence, though they did not exercise it toward 
us, as we went in several times when many of them were 
left out to wait for the next turn. 

The river was already astir with boats of every descrip¬ 
tion known on it. House-boats, steam-launches, four- 
oared and six-oared boats, punts, dingeys, were pressing 
ahead with the common object in view of squeezing into 
Boulter’s lock ahead of each other. 

After we emerged from Boulter’s, we had 
The Real stai t. j e j gure m i nc j to i 00 k at the lovely and 

peaceful scenery before the laggards came up, and as soon 
as they arrived, we made the real start on our water ex¬ 
cursion, which was most enjoyable from beginning to end. 
The weather was perfect,—an item of no small good-luck 
in English holiday-making,—and the engine of our launch 


7 6 Mildred russell’s letters. 

afforded us the negative gratification of not giving out 
greasy odors or constantly enveloping us in thick smoke. 
Cloudless heavens of a tint here called sky-blue induced 
an Englishman of our party to suggest that they were 
as bright as in America. But that was because he had 
never crossed the Atlantic, nor seen the pure blue of our 
skies, which is crisper and much more intense than in 
England, where the hazy atmosphere tones down every¬ 
thing to a soberer hue. One of the greatest charms of the 
banks of the Thames lies in a variety always possessing a 
calm, soothing character. Antiquity is here, but it is only 
in dim remembrance. It has been good enough to sweep 
away everything that could remind us that past genera¬ 
tions were at all imposing or more important than we, 
or that we are so much ahead of them that their very re¬ 
mains excite our pity. 

As we steam up the river, we see a succession of 
miy ’ meadow-lands, slopes covered with dense masses 
of trees, or with single ones standing out in quiet beauty, 
villages with romantic and historic associations, villas, va¬ 
rying from that of the country house type to the tiny ones 
which seem to consist of nothing but a gabled front, hidden 
with masses of roses and honeysuckles. Many of the 
houses have lawns of the green turf that is such a boasted 
product of England, and ornamental forest trees tower up 
and display their beauty of outline or their majesty, gained 
by age. Cliefden, a princely house belonging to the Duke 
of Westminster, large enough to be a palace, is in full 
view of us as we proceed a couple of miles up to Cook- 
ham. The same scene of crowding into the lock goes on 
at this one as at the former. The graceful, fragile row¬ 
boats look very small, and send up contemptuous and 
antagonistic glances at the launches and lumbering house- 


A TRIP UP THE THAMES. 


77 


boats, yet with practical condescension catch hold of them 
to steady themselves in the water. 

The reach between Cookham and Mar- 
A man tary FlSher ^ owe affords the best fishing, and here we 
saw a fisherman so deeply absorbed in his 
pursuit that he must have solaced the soul of Isaak Walton 
if it still haunt these banks. The fisherman was dressed 
in loose, dark-gray clothes and slouch hat, wore specta¬ 
cles, and had a long beard, and looked like a regular 
devotee, and as if he had slept in his clothes for the last 
three weeks, for fear of arriving late and missing a nibble. 
He was as serious as if he had the weight of the world on 
his shoulders, and formed a curious contrast in dress and 
general appearance to the holiday-making boatmen. 

From another lock we emerge into a wider reach of 
the river, where both banks are bordered with level mea¬ 
dows. This is the best part for the sailing boats, as the 
breeze rarely fails here. Then we come to the village of 
Marlowe, a model of picturesque grouping of ivy-covered 
houses, gray church and tower. Two more locks are 
gone through while we are in the cabin for luncheon, and 
then comes Medmenham. Here we disembark and step 
on to a smooth, sloping turf, which is backed by a ruined 
abbey, patched up and divided into rooms where picnics 
can be improvised, or boaters going up or down stream 
can stay over night, or fishermen make their headquarters. 
Close by, and also facing the river, is the hotel, with the 
same irreproachable turf spread out before it. In front of 
both hotel and abbey, all kinds of craft are moored, and 
guests in boating costume of white flannel, with a dash of 
color, are sitting down or lying stretched out on the grass 
in the full enjoyment of an English summer day, which is 
hot enough to warm them thoroughly for a couple of 


78 


mildred russell’s letters. 


hours. After exploring the abbey and grounds, we, too, 
sit under the trees and drink in the pleasant holiday 
scene. We can tell at a glance the majority assembled 
are towns-people by their slight build, for in only one 
or two instances is the typical Englishman seen with his 
broad shoulders and wonderful depth of chest. 

Returnin'' After awhile there is a general movement of 
re-embarking, and we set out on our homeward 
way. The river looks different as we go back. We think 
it more beautiful. The shadows thrown in the late after¬ 
noon are heavier; the sunlight turns much of the turf and 
trees into quivering gold, and the colors on the water are 
all aglow. A few minutes the river is green from the over¬ 
hanging foliage, then, before we have time to tire of this, 
it is bright and sparkling, and dotted with the reflection of a 
red, or yellow, or pure white sail. The cottages and villas 
are gayer, and groups of oarsmen and ladies are sitting on 
benches or loitering about the gardens. Boats are tugged 
by friendly pairs of young men and girls at even a brisker 
pace than in the morning. The young men do the work of 
pulling, the assistance of the young ladies being merely or¬ 
namental, and strictly confined to holding, in sympathetic 
fashion, one end of the pole to which the hauling-rope is at¬ 
tached.. Sometimes a boat is pulled up under the shadow 
of the trees, and a couple of friends are resting, or pic-nick¬ 
ing, or busy with the prosaic occupation of clearing up the 
remains of the feast. No servants are to be seen except help¬ 
ers on the launches or house-boats. People have come out 
for fresh air and freedom from every-day trammels, and 
wait on each other. Now and then we come on scenes 
that remind us that this or that painter has faithfully repro¬ 
duced them. The overshadowing banks of trees, the ashy 
green willows, the cattle cooling themselves in the water, 



A TRIP UP THE THAMES. 


79 


or the villages with their marvellous air of quiet content¬ 
ment, and the far-reaching meadows stretching to the hori¬ 
zon and dying away into grayness. It was, on the whole, 
an assemblage of the better class of Londoners in the 
midst of which we found ourselves, and the rush and 
tussle to get into the locks was an orderly and fair one. 
Every one was merry and gay in the temperate English 
fashion, and one boat helped another if occasion required. 
The eagerness shown in this respect in the earlier part 
of the day culminated almost in excitement on the return, 
and especially just before we reached Maidenhead. 

\ house-boat As we came U P ^ rus h was greater than 
ever, and it was evidently a usual occurrence, 
as a crowd had collected on the bridge and banks, some of 
them standing perilously near the water. The boats had 
pushed up on both sides of the river close to the gate, and 
had left only a narrow passage for those who were in the 
lock to pass out by, when the keeper called out, “The 
first is a house-boat.” In spite of their vexation, those 
foremost could not refrain from joining in the laughter this 
announcement caused. There was as eager a movement 
backwards as there had been forwards a few minutes pre¬ 
viously, for a house-boat is drawn by a horse and rope 
from the bank, and is not easily or quickly stopped when 
once it is under way, and, moreover, is huge in size when 
compared with the row-boats. The smaller craft had no 
sooner retreated to a safe distance than the gates opened 


and the house-boat slowly and ponderously came onwards. 
It was in full fete dress, and round the top were cases 
filled with flowers, which gave it the appearance of a 
travelling garden. Two young ladies, dressed in cream 
color, sat immediately in front and shaded themselves 
from the declining rays of the sun with their Japanese- 


So 


Mildred russell’s letters. 


shaped parasols, and seemed like wood-nymphs who had 
dropped down from the over-branching trees on the cum¬ 
brous boat. Though there had been a regular scamper 
to get out of the way, there was barely room enough, and 
several of the little boats had to put forth considerable ex¬ 
ertions to avoid being unceremoniously crunched. As 
soon as this excitement had ceased, there was another 
race for the ftrst place in the lock. The keeper issued all 
sorts of orders as to this boat and that, and prophesied 
that this one or that one would come to grief, but no one 
heeded, or rather the threatened ones managed to pass in 
safety out of that difficulty, and not infrequently fell into 
another. After the lucky ones had squeezed in and had 
taken up their positions, and the unfortunate ones, with 
their stern projecting too near the gates had beaten their 
retreat, every one settled down to wait the few minutes till 
the water was lowered, with comparative patience. There 
was a little of the usual wriggling and twisting, but not 
much, as we were so tightly packed that we were obliged 
to keep pretty still. 

The gates were opened, and at first those behind could 
not make out why those in front did not move. It turned 
out that four boats had each determined to get out first, 
and the rivalry ended in their all getting wedged so fast to¬ 
gether that stirring was impossible. They were in that 
position and struggling to free themselves long enough for 
the others to enjoy a succession of peals of laughter at 
their discomfiture. At last one leaped forward with a 
bound, the others followed, and soon the mass of boats 
disintegrated. 

After passing under Maidenhead bridge, we went two 
miles further, to the village of Bray, where we dined. We 
were sitting out of doors, drinking our coffee and recalling 


SCENES ABOUT COVEN TRY. 


81 


the trifling events ot our pleasant day, when some one re¬ 
marked it was nine o’clock and still daylight. In another 
half-hour we had to leave; and just as we started, the 
moon rose, and at our last view of the Thames it was 
shining like rippling silver, and by eleven o’clock we were 
back at our hotel in smoky, grimy, attractive London. 

Mildred Russell. 


SCENES ABOUT COVENTRY. 

London, July , 1885. 

We left London by a 9:30 train on the London and 
Northwestern railway, one of the best-managed and smooth¬ 
est running lines in England. After a ride of ninety miles 
we arrived at Coventry, a town in Warwickshire, in the 
centre of England, whose history—legendary, political, 
and social—would fill volumes. It is a quaint old place, 
and fairly bristles with reminiscences of past days. 

Some of the villages near Coventry are as pretty as any 
can be. One of them—Allesley—four miles out of the 
town, has the advantage of having hall, church, and cottages 
combined to produce a thoroughly English scene. It is 
fortunate in other respects, too, as it possesses an enviable 
absence of poverty and dirt, and its working class of agri¬ 
cultural laborers may be styled as well-to-do. Allesley 
Park, as it is called, a large, square stone house of about 
the date of the end of the seventeenth century, is ap¬ 
proached through an avenue, and stands in ground con¬ 
taining some very old trees, notably a cedar, whose age 
no one likes to guess at, but which must certainly amount 
to several hundred years. This place has been used for 
a length of time as a college for boys and young men, who, 


7 


82 MILDRED RUSSELL’S LETTERS. 

rain or shine, make it lively with their sports and pranks^ 
and who also have a reasonable interest in success at ex¬ 
aminations as well as cricket. The rhododendrons, form¬ 
ing a high hedge on one side of a shrubbery, and huge 
masses here and there, were in full bloom at our visit, and 
made a gay appearance in spite of heavy, leaden skies and 
rainy weather. The windows of the house look across the 
park and rest on the village, which is situated on gradually- 
rising ground, and forms the bounding view. The red 
cottages nestle together and the tiled roofs peep one above 
another in charming confusion, and behind and overtop¬ 
ping all, the gray church spire rises amid the sombre green 
of the trees. 

Even on a dull day, or I might say on the innumerable 
dull days which prevail in England, the beauty of this 
scene is not blotted out, as it is so often in similar circum¬ 
stances in England, but rather assumes a variation. This 
is owing in some degree to the masses of dark, heavy 
foliage, the lighter green of the pasture, the warm coloring 
of the village houses, and the contrasting grayness of hall 
and church. When these are enshrouded in a misty, va¬ 
porous atmosphere, they are toned down to a low and 
perhaps mournful key, as if they were in penitence, till the 
sun comes out and sets them free. Then nothing is gayer 
or brighter, and every visitor at the park, who owns brush 
and colors, rushes for them, and is fired with the ambition 
to reproduce the enchantment. The sky, which for days 
has been like the spirit of gloom, puts on great patches of 
blue. It is not an ecstatic blue, indeed, but a gentle, 
peaceful tint, suitable for a being who knows it is in tem¬ 
porary gala dress, which will not do to be daunted in the 
eyes of all beholders, lest it pass suddenly into solar dis¬ 
tance and take too long to get back. 


SUMMERING IN SCOTLAND. 


83 


English people are able to be indifferent to the weather, 
owing to the extremes of temperature never being very 
great, and, protected by waterproof cloaks and boots of a 
thickness unimaginable by Americans, they defy the rain 
and damp rather than remain indoors all day. 

T Some of the Warwickshire lanes are scarcely 

wide enough to allow two carts to pass, and in 
consequence of being lowered to make them level, the side 
banks are in places very high. These banks are a mass 
of wild flowers and ferns, and are usually topped by hawthorn 
hedges and overshadowed with trees. The vistas through 
them are picturesque in the extreme, and many of them 
are so secluded and quiet, that they are the homes of in¬ 
numerable singing birds that love solitude and avoid be¬ 
ing too near the dwellings of man. Our stay at Coventry 
concluded, we returned to London, which we leave shortly 
for Scotland. Mildred Russell. 


SUMMERING IN SCOTLAND. 

Forfarshire, Scotland, September , 1885. 

Our route from London lay past some of the cathedral 
towns, though from the railway little can be seen of the 
buildings themselves, except the general effect of outline 
and position. We saw Peterboro’, with its renowned fa¬ 
cade; York, towering up in pride at holding the first place 
in Gothic architecture in England; and Durham, well 
planted on a rock side by side with the castle, and show¬ 
ing its steady line of Norman arches. On we go north¬ 
ward, catching sight occasionally of the German ocean; 
then we cross the border between Scotland and England, 
now well defined, but for ages possessed of a vagueness 



8 4 


mildred russell’s letters. 


that could never be reduced to precision by the fiercest of 
fights. Then we rush through Edinburgh, its castle soar¬ 
ing aloft into the gray clouds, and its palace bringing 
up more romantic and tender thoughts than almost any 
other tourist-visited spot. We stop at Perth, suggestive in 
name of the “Fair Maid,” but in reality an uninteresting 
utilitarian place; a great railway centre, with a big station, 
where innumerable trains go in and out, and where confu¬ 
sion reigns supreme half of the time, and dull weariness 
the other half. A short stretch further brings us into For¬ 
farshire. When we first arrived, we noticed a great change 
in the temperature, as compared with London. It was 
many degrees colder, and winter clothing had to be ex¬ 
humed,. We delighted in the late, long twilights, which 
enabled us to dispense with artificial light till after ten 
o’clock, and brought renewed day at three in the morning. 
Most of us ignored the latter, but we all took pleasure 
in knowing the fact in our slumbering consciousness. 

„ . The main attraction to men of leisure and 

Grouse-shooting. 

wealth in Scotland is the grouse-shooting? 
and so popular is this amusement that the best moors are 
let at fabulous prices. The grouse thrive only amid the 
heather in the uninhabited, wild parts of the country, so it 
often happens that the shooting-boxes have no gardens, 
and stand isolated and miles away from a village or post- 
office. Some houses have, however, fine gardens, lawns, 
and every convenience, in which case the sportsmen have 
to ride three or four miles, or further, before they come to 
the best of the shooting. The twelfth of August is the 
day for the grouse-shooting to begin, and the migration 
northward from London and other parts of England the 
week before is enormous, and necessitates extra trains to 
carry the passengers and their belongings. Prudent peo- 


SUMMERING IN SCOTLAND. 


85 

pie engage their places on the trains six weeks in advance, 
so as to be sure of coming without any serious delay. I 
am told the railway companies give notice that they do 
not guarantee bringing those people who have not taken 
this precaution during the last few days preceding the 
twelfth of August. Dogs, horses, and baggage in untold 
quantities choke up stations and trains, and din and chaos 
take the place of the usual good order. 

Highland games. Highland games are celebrated in differ¬ 
ent parts of the country at this season of the 
year, when the short Scotch summer is at its height and all 
the local magnates are at home. At Braemar, near the 
Queen’s residence, Balmoral, Aberdeenshire, there was an 
unusually large gathering, as it was looked upon, in some 
degree, as a suitable moment.to give a welcome to the 
Princess Beatrice, on her first visit to Scotland after her 
marriage. 

In Scotland the word glen is applied to the long-drawn-, 
out valleys between the ridges of the moors or mountains 
where the land is capable of more or less cultivation. The 
northern part of Forfarshire abounds in glens, formed by 
the outlying spurs of the Grampian Mountains, which 
gradually become lower as they are further from the main 
chain. In the large glens, farms and fields of grain and 
meadows lie; a stream flows, containing trout, and some¬ 
times salmon. In the smaller ones, a tiny brook trickles, 
and a shepherd's cottage stands, with a patch of attempted 
garden. Glen Isla is one of the large glens, and has vil¬ 
lages of some size, and a long stretch of cultivated coun¬ 
try. The Highland Society was instituted here thirty- 
years ago, to aid in keeping up the language, games, music 
and dress of the Highlanders. 

We had heard the games so much spoken of that, undis- 


86 


Mildred russell’s letters. 


mayed by the length of the way and its other difficulties, 
we determined on attending them We left at eight 
o’clock, after an early breakfast, our cavalcade consisting 
of a four-wheeled village-cart, five horses and some ponies, 
and our route lying across the moors, where we were told no 
such thing as a four-wheeled carriage could go. We were 
obliged to have a carriage, as some of our party declined 
to struggle with the moor ponies. 

All went well for the first few minutes, and every one 
thought the difficulties had been overrated, and that there 
were too many gillies, and that they would be in each 
other’s way, and that they would have nothing to do. No 
sooner had we left the private grounds than trouble began. 
The road was upside down, and full of holes and ruts and 
hillocks, and two of the ladies, being accustomed to* 
springs and good macadam, did not at all relish the new 
style of travelling. One bore it with tolerable equanimity,, 
but the other gave a succession of little screams as the 
jolts and tilts went on. The two ladies on the ponies 
smiled complacently at these proceedings, and made the 
frequent halts that were necessary with amiable patience. 
The way became worse, and the timid lady had soon to 
cease every alarming exclamation, as her whole exertions 
of soul and body were taken up with the effort of clinging 
on. Over half a dozen gillies piloted and engineered our 
wheels in safety and so cleverly over the terribly rough 1 
way, that no one was the worse for the jolting, and the 
timid lady ended by declaring she had never once been 
frightened. 

The moors were just beginning to be a mass 
Scfnery d P ur P le heather in full bloom, and as we went 
up and up, we gradually lost sight of our smiling 
glen and its cultivated surroundings, and came into a cir- 


SUMMERING IN SCOTLAND. 


87 


cle of high hills without a tree or sign of human habitation. 
Up and up we went, through the deep heather and over 
the uneven ground, till we came to our highest point, and 
all around us was the same kind of view. Hills, like 
huge waves, some deep, deep blue in the distance, others 
purple or red, and patched with the fresh green just grown 
up from the spots where the heather had been recently 
burnt. Is was a beautiful sight. The grand solitude, the 
vast expanse, and the pure air impressed us exquisitely. 
One of the ladies found a big root of white heather, which 
is rare and said to bring good luck. The fortunate finder 
distributed it round to the party, who received it as a 
much-appreciated gift. The white heather is the same 
botanically as the purple, the absence of color being due 
to some temporary peculiarity of the soil. 

After enjoying the prospect at the highest point of our 
climb we started the descending slope, and soon came on 
a shooting-box, where three or four sportsmen and a dozen 
gillies turned out to view such an unusual sight as our 
party presented in going by. They eyed the village-cart 
most curiously. 'Three quarters of an hour further on, 
and at eleven o’clock, we reached a farm-house, where a 
break, that had been sent round by the road, was waiting 
for us, and we did the remaining ten miles along a good 
road in very fair time, and arrived at Glen Isla just as the 
games began. We were all ready for luncheon, so we 
chose a grassy island by the side of the river Isla for our 
camping-ground. It was backed up by fern-covered rocks 
and sheltered with trees, and far enough from the high¬ 
road to escape the dust, and was altogether a capital spot. 

'The games were very interesting to us as 
A athering Sting strangers, an( ^ quite as much so to the people 
of the neighborhood, as many of the same 


88 


MILDRED kUSSELL’s LETTERS. 

competitors appear year after year, and great eagerness is 
shown to know who is likely to win. We found on our 
arrival that representatives from all the distinguished families 
residing within a driving radius of thirty miles had assem¬ 
bled. The games took place on a piece of flat ground 
bounded by the river on one side and a steep slope at 
the foot of Mount Blair on the other, on which benches 
were placed for the spectators. We were lucky in being 
in the front row, and in having a good view. The compe¬ 
titors and several gentlemen among the spectators were in 
Highland costume; members of many different clans were 
present, and the day fine, and bright, so that the scene was 
quite gay. 

As we took our seats the pipers were playing their trial 

t 

pieces in a very spirited fashion. They were on a plat¬ 
form about twenty feet square and raised a foot from the 
ground. They walked in step around and across it, keeping 
time to their music. The judges were hidden, so the 
manner of stepping did not count towards winning the 
prize, which, I thought, was a mistake, as there was a 
great difference among the pipers in this respect. One of 
them marched along the gayest of the gay, and another 
stepped as fierce and proud as if he were piper to the 
Queen, and aspired to the possession of John Brown’s 
shoes. Some of them were handsomely dressed, and had 
a variety of silver buckles and charms, and one of them 
wore several medals gained in London and other parts of 
the world. 

Bag-pipes. 1 am no J uci ge of bag-pipes, so cannot pro¬ 
nounce on the merit of the performers; but many 
of the listeners considered the playing very good; and as 
noted men played I suppose it was. The dancing was remark¬ 
ably pleasing. Several Highland flings, strathspeys and 


SUMMERING IN SCOTLAND. 


89 


reels were really gracefully danced, and without the rough¬ 
ness and awkwardness I had believed inseparably con¬ 
nected with them from seeing them in other countries. 
The most difficult was the sword-dance. Two swords 
were crossed on the platform, then one by one the compe¬ 
titors came forward and danced an infinite complexity of 
steps in and out and crossways over the swords with great 
dexterity. If any part of the swords is touched the dance 
is a failure, and the dancer is at once ruled out, but that 
did not happen when we saw the games. The sailor horn¬ 
pipe ended the dancing late in the afternoon, and for it 
the men changed their picturesque costume for plain white 
linen clothes and broad blue collars and straw hats. One 
man did extremely well, and gave such a good idea of haul¬ 
ing in ropes and of other ship occupations that we were for¬ 
cibly reminded of the Atlantic. 

^ . . . . .. While these amusements were going on 

Trials of stength. 0 0 

in the foreground, throwing the stone, ham¬ 
mer, and caber went on a little distance beyond. The 
stone, a ball about eight inches in diameter and twenty- 
eight pounds in weight, is first poised in the right hand on 
a level with the head, the left arm is raised up as a sort 
of balance, the thrower stands with his back turned to¬ 
wards the direction he is to throw, and turns suddenly 
round and flings his missile. The ^greatest distance we 
saw thrown was twenty-six feet. The hammer is an iron 
bar about a yard and a half long, with a ball at one end 
five inches in diameter. The men plant themselves firmly, 
grasp the bar in one hand and whirl it around their heads 
with gradually increasing speed till about the fifth time, 
when suddenly they send it whizzing through the air, and 
it alights many yards off. We saw one sent ninety-eight 
yards. I was more surprised at this feat and the grace of 


9° 


mildred russell’s letters. 


The return. 


the dancing than anything else in the sports. Next came 
tossing the caber, a pole fifteen yards long, placed in a 
hole some depth in the ground to keep it steady. Each 
competitor took it out in succession and tossed it as far 
as he could. This must have been difficult to do, as no 
one tossed it very far. After this came foot-races, and 
the whole ended with a tug of war between sets of men 
from different districts. This is the most exciting event 
of the day in the eyes of the participants and their friends, 
as it gives the winners collectively great importance, and 
raises their neighborhood to the honor of being able to 
boast of having the strongest men. Eight men, about a 
yard and a half apart, stand at each end of a rope and 
pull against each other, and it is very soon seen which is 
the stronger team. 

When the games were over, we returned to 
our luncheon ground, boiled some water, made 
tea, and prepared to return home. It was too late to 
think ol taking the short cut across the moors, as, how¬ 
ever bright the moon might be at one moment, we feared 
she would not give us steady light enough to avoid all the 
snares and pitfalls hidden in the thick, springy heather. 

Such a getting started ! First the break wending its 
way spasmodically through vehicles of all kinds, much to 
the annoyance of the spirited horses, which were eager to 
be of, and chafed at being hedged in by the crowd. Then 
the village-cart, followed by the gillies, with the moor 
ponies bringing up the rear, and our solitary horseman 
riding backwards and forwards, threatening this driver 
with vengeance, and earnestly entreating that one to get 
out ot the way. Besides games there had been whiskey, 
and now excitement was added; but a little patience, and 
we were out of the thickest of the throng, and by the 


SUMMERING IN SCOTLAND. 


9 1 


time the ponies left us three miles ahead to cross the 
moors, not more than six or eight vehicles were near 
us. It was close on sunset when we left the glen; the 
sky was in patches of golden red floating on pale light, 
and the soft glow on the mountains was exquisite. It 
was nearly full moon, and we had plenty of light to con¬ 
vey us safely up and down steep hills and round sharp 
turns, and the cool evening air refreshed us after the hot 
sun in which we had been sitting during the day; for the 
sun can pour down quite hot in Scotland once or twice 
during the summer, though in the shade it is always cool, 
and most of the time one’s energies are occupied in en¬ 
deavoring to keep warm. Our twenty-six-mile drive home 
was most enjoyable, though now and then we were a little 
anxious as to the route, as none of us had been by it 
before, and we were bent on illusive, short cuts. At last 
we turned a corner, and found ourselves on a well-known 
road, eight miles from home, and another hour brought us 
up to the door, the horses coming in at a fair pace after 
their long trip. The roads m Scotland are good, on the 
whole, but they are hilly, and many are so steep that 
going down is done much more slowly and with greater 
difficulty than going up, and the carriages being heavy, 
the pace in long journeys is not very fast, however good 
the horses are. The slowness of the travelling, however, 
is fully compensated by the beauty of the scenery, which in 
some parts resembles Switzerland, without, however, hav¬ 
ing mountains anything like as high. 

Another day we received an invitation 

Ptarmigan shooting. 

from some neighbors on the next shoot¬ 
ing to join their party, who were going after ptarmigan on 
one of their moors, which lies three thousand feet high. 
The invitation was a conditional one as to date, and to 


9 2 


MILDRED RUSSELL’S LETTERS. 


depend on the weather and the north wind, owing to the 
position of the moor. Wind and weather being favorable 
for the first day that was fixed, we dressed ourselves in 
very warm clothing for the time of the year, according 
to advice given us, and drove over to our neighbors’ by a 
short cut of three miles, and arrived at half-past ten. 
From there we started on ponies for our expedition, our 
party being made up of seven guns, six on-lookers (four of 
whom were ladies), twenty gillies, and a couple of pack- 
ponies carrying the luncheon and the extra wraps. 

Getting off was, as usual, rather an affair, though our 
hosts were ready and waiting for us; but we managed 
it without any unreasonable delay. Some of the party 
were not familiar with moor ponies, and were rather anx¬ 
ious as to their behaviour; others were bent a little too 
much on managing them. These ponies are in reality 
the safest of creatures, and if they occasionally stumble, 
they pick themselves up again at once. They are dread¬ 
fully hard-mouthed and obstinate, and if they take it into 
their heads to go in one direction, they are apt to do 
so, whatever may be the riders’ wishes on the subject. 
They get into this habit from being allowed to find their 
own way, as they can tell by the scent, it is said, where 
the bogs are better than human beings can. One of the 
strangers in the party was determined to insist on manag¬ 
ing his steed according to his own ideas on the subject, 
and he very soon found himself floundering in a bog, with 
his wife close behind him, doing the same. They were able, 
fortunately, to step off the ponies’ backs on to the firm 
ground, and were none the worse except for the fright; and 
after struggling and being tugged and hauled at, the ponies 
were pulled out. Serious accidents sometimes happen in 
the bogs, rather from injuries received in the difficulty of 


SUMMERING IN SCOTLAND. 


93 


getting out, I believe, than from being actually engulfed, 
as sinking more than four feet is a slow process in most 
bogs. 

About half a mile on our way, we passed through a pine 
wood with large open spaces in it covered with a thick 
carpet of heather in full bloom, with tiny yellow pine 
trees shooting up amid the many-shaded purple. It was 
wonderfully pretty, and there was so much of it. After 
leaving the pine woods, we soon came to the open moors, 
looking cold and grand on this truly autumnal day, though 
only the twenty-sixth of August, and five miles further on 
brought us to the foot of our big climb, not far from the 
top of the moors. 

Here all except the ladies dismounted, and 

Getting ready i , , . / i r i 

for the sport. l ast preparations were made for the sport. 

The ladies rode another half mile, accom¬ 
panied by the two gentlemen who had not guns. Then 
they dismounted also, and all joined forces, and made the 
tour of the three tops of the curved hill of which the moor 
consisted. The shooters were placed up and down the 
hill about fifteen yards apart, each man with his keeper 
close up, the spectators keeping above them in order to 
overlook the sport and the landscape—that is, if one could 
call the view we saw a landscape, for it seemed rather 
a cloudscape, and as if the earth had been drawn up into 
the sky. There was peak after peak of every kind of shape 
looking something like an immense heaving sea that had 
been tossed up and suddenly turned into solid masses, 
and the waves left crowding on one another; and in pity 
or thankfulness for the transformation, the clouds lay over 
them as a reminiscence of their ocean birth. The day 
was gray as gray could be, and the faint glimmering of 
sun, that streamed hesitatingly through the haze, lighted 
8 


94 


mildred Russell’s letters. 


mildly up but a few favorable spots, but not sufficient to 
raise the coloring of the hills beyond a dull, dull purple 
and other sombre tones. Blank, and dreary, and huge 
these hills and moors looked, partly owing to the misty 
air and partly to their solitude, as there was no animate 
nature to be recognized, except our party and the ptar¬ 
migan as they rose. In the distance were the woods of 
Braemar, Balmoral, Invermark, and others, distinguishable 
by their slightly lower levels from moors near them, but, 
excepting in that particular, presenting no difference in 
appearance from the bare hills. 

The moor we were on, like all haunts of the 

Haunts of the , . . , - . 

ptarmigan ptarmigan, is made up in great part of slaty 
gray-and-white stone. This resembles in color 
the plumage of the bird at this time of the year, which 
is gray on the back and head, and pure white under the 
wings and breast, so that in rising it looks perfectly white. 
Later on in the winter the moor is covered with snow, 
and by then the ptarmigan has turned white all over, so as 
to be in unison with the ground. As these birds were 
lying among the slaty rocks, they were difficult to discern, 
even at a moderate distance, owing to the similarity of 
color and tone. They rose in coveys from six to eleven 
birds, very quietly and swiftly, and if a sharp lookout were 
not kept, they were up and out of gun-shot before any one 
was ready to shoot. After they were shot, it was often 
tiresome work to find them among the rocks, though our 
friends had a capital retriever, which did good service, 
and was more petted than hunting-dogs usually are. 

After we had gone over the hills once, we turned round 
and descended into a sheltered spot formed by a curve 
in the hills, and took luncheon with an appetite that had 
been sharpened for the last half hour by spying it being 


SUMMERING IN SCOTLAND. 


95 


prepared. We had not found it so cold as we had ex¬ 
pected, the thermometer only registering forty-four de¬ 
grees, as against sixty degrees in the valley below, and we 
were very warmly dressed. Our friends told us, however, 
we were most lucky in the day, as a bitter wind had been 
blowing at their former visits. Before sitting down, they 
insisted on our putting on extra heavy wraps, but, in spite 
of this precaution, we were soon cooling oft at a rapid 
rate, that even all kinds of good cheer did not arrest 
We warmed up again after starting to walk after luncheon, 
and after another turn was made, this time in the opposite 
direction, we prepared to set out homewards. 

The ponies went off in good spirits and dashed along at . 
full speed, followed by their friends. They have decided 
likes and dislikes; some insist on leading and some on 
following; one will stand perfectly still any length of time 
next to another, while nothing will induce him to remain 
half a second quiet by a third; and if his friend by acci¬ 
dent gets ahead without his seeing him start, away he darts 
without sign or warning, and cannot be induced to stop 
until he catches up. On the level it is a matter of indif¬ 
ference; but coming down hill at full speed, over stones 
and heather, and swerving at sharp angles to miss a bog, 
raise a doubt in the mind of a novice in ponies, whether 
they are as safe as they are reputed to be. 

We had several startling gallops on the way home, 
which ended with sudden stops, and afforded us much 
amusement. By half-past six we were back at the shoot¬ 
ing-lodge, and, after partaking of the cup of tea hospitably 
offered us after the fashion of the country, we took leave of 
our hosts and reached home an hour later. The ladies of 
the party were surprisingly little tired with their trip of 
eight hours of almost uninterrupted riding and walking; 


mildred russell’s letters. 


96 

which we ascribed principally to the bracing air, with a 
little passed to the account of the good time that they had 
had. Mildred Russell. 


FROM SCOTLAND TO HAVRE, ROUEN AND 

PARIS. 

Paris, October , 1885. 

Packing up our traps in Scotland after three months 
of settled life made us feel like soldiers once more on the 
march after having turned lazy with being so long in bar¬ 
racks. But when the trouble of packing was over, our 
spirits rose immediately, with the rapidity, indeed, of the 
disembodied ones that are always ready to rise in this 
land of visions. 

We left Forfarshire on the afternoon of the 6th of Octo¬ 
ber, and soon Perth came into view. This time the bust¬ 
ling station was astir with parties of people of all kinds re¬ 
turning south, or who had come to the station to see what 
was going on. Members of the Queen’s family on their 
way from Balmoral, her favorite home, were taking the ex¬ 
press for London in the guise of ordinary citizens. High¬ 
land soldiers from the Perth garrison in their picturesque 
uniforms, and stray members of Parliament, endeavoring 
to look as if they had thrown off the cares of ambition; 
sportsmen, too, were here with their dogs and a retinue of 
servants laden with gun-cases and other accessories, while a 
hail-storm of broad Scotch dialect was pelting round and 
mystifying the Saxons, who could not make anything out 
of it except that it was unmistakably bewildering. 

In spite of very fine weather, London was not looking • 
its best, owing to the streets being half empty of carriages 



FROM SCOTLAND TO HAVRE, ROUEN AND PARIS. 97 


and people, for as yet no one, who calls himself anybody, 
owns to having returned to his town home. Still, in com¬ 
parison with the Scotch moors, there were crowds, and 
we made our way along with a renewed sense of living in 
a world of throbbing humanity, instead of an untold expanse 
of heather and one’s next door neighbor miles away. 
As we went on the sight was indefinably and pleasurably 
exciting, and was like an electric shock, awakening us into 
life again after months of dozing. After a short time in 
London, devoted to affairs of no general interest, we took 
the train and went to Southampton, a seaport about mid¬ 
way on the southern coast of England. 'The country along 
this line is of pretty English type, slightly hilly, with white 
chalk cuttings suggesting the cliffs of Dover. 

Across to Havre. From Southampton we crossed over to 
Havre. We had no sooner taken a cab on 
leaving the boat than unmistakable signs of France showed 
themselves. Half a dozen times between the boat and 
the railway station our driver got into an altercation with 
other drivers, or else with foot-passengers crossing the 
street, as to the right of road. Whichever side had the 
worst of it began hurling abuse at the one which had the 
best of it; then came retaliation, which only ended as a 
new altercation began. Havre lies at the mouth of the 
Seine, and is a comparatively modern town, well built and 
planned, and the most important French seaport on the 
Atlantic. The country is flat and seemingly fertile be¬ 
tween Havre and Rouen; poplars in rows miles long are 
marked features of it, and so are willows, swaying back¬ 
wards and forwards, and drooping over the water as if they 
had posed themselves in imitation of Corot’s pictures. 

At Rouen we stayed a couple of nights, to see 
Rouen. £ at i iet [ r al an d churches, but the shortness of 


98 mildred russell’s letters. 

time and the worst possible weather prevented our 
doing so to advantage. We had therefore only a cursory 
view, and came away with vague impressions of innumer¬ 
able stained-glass windows of mellowness of tint unat¬ 
tainable till the work of the artist has been touched up 
by the hand of cunning old Father Time. dowers, pil¬ 
lars, and facades, rows of archways and exquisite carving, 
come slowly in panoramic succession before our minds, as 
if the grand whole had been taken to pieces, and each de¬ 
tail was content to be on its own merits without any addi¬ 
tional glory reflected on it. 

Rouen is seen to great advantage from the railway, 
going in the direction of Paris. The spires and towers, 
the Seine and its banks and islands, make it decidedly 
picturesque. The Seine winds constantly, and is as con¬ 
stantly crossed by the railway, and undoubtedly here runs 
through one of the prettiest parts of France. A couple of 
hours’ ride by train brought us in sight of the “Arc de 
Triomphe” of Napoleon I., and soon afterwards we were 
comfortably housed in our hotel. Mildred Russell 


VISIT TO FONTAINEBLEAU. 

Paris, Noi'ember , 1885. 

Fontainebleau lies in a southwesterly direction, about 
two hours by rail from Paris. It is a long-drawn-out 
town, without animation or distinguishing characteristics 
of its own, and resembles innumerable other small French 
towns. Its forest and chateau, however, are unique. 

The people of Fontainebleau take even more pride 
in their forest than they do in the chateau. It is a place 
of resort for old and young, rich and poor, for long drives 



VISIT TO FONTAINEBLEAU. 


99 


and pic-nics, for walking excursions suited to the robust, 
and lor shady spots where the feeble and weary sit and 
sun themselves. It is near enough to Paris for parties of 
pleasure to come out for the day and visit, and in the fine 
weather numbers avail themselves of the opportunity. At 
Whitsuntide, and a few days before and after the four¬ 
teenth of July, and other Parisian fetes of the people, 
Fontainebleau is crowded with visitors of the wealthier 
classes from the city, who come out to escape the holiday¬ 
making. Then the prices at the hotels rise to suit the 
occasion. 

We went in a carriage to see deer-hunting 

Deer-hunting. . ° ° 

in the forest, and appreciated the fine roads 
that are so arranged at radiating angles that one centre 
commands a view of many ways, and enables others be¬ 
side riders to enjoy the sport. These roads are inter¬ 
sected by others, so that the whole plan is as if the spokes 
of a wheel were intersected in every direction. This 
arrangement is common to other French forests. The 
meet was very pretty, though a small one. Most of the 
hunters came in carriages, and had their horses sent on 
before. The Due of Bellune, in military uniform, with 
the Duchess and their two little daughters, arrived in 
a landau, and an English lady and gentleman, in hunting 
costume, came in a T cart. An English girl about eigh¬ 
teen years old was on horseback, and, being a little late, 
arrived at full speed, with her horse looking as if it had 
already done half a day’s work. 

There was the usual chatting and going round to the 
various carriages to give friendly greetings preparatory 
to starting, just as is done in England at a fox-hunting 
meet. Then the hounds threw off' on jB’etty good time. 
These dogs are large without being enormous, and are the 


IOO 


Mildred russell’s letters. 

same kind as English fox-hounds. About fifty of them 
are in a pack; some of them are kepi in leash till the 
others are tired out. As soon as the start is made to look 
for a deer, the attendants and hunters ride up and down 
the various lanes near where they know the animal is 
likely to be, and searcli the ground carefully to find the 
foot-marks made in crossing. Our driver, an old servant 
in the hunt, and enthusiastic on the subject, was delighted 
when he found a track, and took pride in pointing it out 
to the hunters as about a dozen of them came up. The 
huntsman wound his horn to give the signal of a first find, 
and then some of the riders went on to the next turn 
in the lane so as to get to the other side of the enclosure and 
surround their prey. It is almost impossible for the riders 
to go through the trees and brushwood; they are obliged 
to leave this proceeding to the dogs, and content them¬ 
selves with galloping up and down the lanes and trying to 
circumvent the deer. When the dogs find a deer which 
leads them in an opposite direction to that expected by 
the main body of the hunters, the attendants gallop off and 
give information on the subject We began to be rather 
tired of waiting one day, and had turned up one of the 
side-paths to explore a little on our own account, when, 
thirty yards ahead of us, a stag came bounding out of the 
trees and crossed the road with the pack of hounds after 
him. It was a pretty sight, and we had no compassion for 
the hunted stag, for he was as fresh as could be, but the 
hounds were fagged, and their tongues were hanging out of 
their mouths, though they were eagerly pressing forward. 
None but ourselves were to be seen, and our driver took the 
liveliest satisfaction in giving the “Tally-ho,” which is cried 
out by every one who has a spark of feeling for the chase, 
so that all the rest may hear the game has been seen. 



VISIT TO FONTAINEBLEAU. 


IOI 


The Chateau or Palace of Fontaine- 

An interesting pile. . 

bleau, m the middle of the forest and close 
by the town, is an irregular and extensive pile of buildings, 
erected at various periods around several courts. The 
Oval Court, the oldest and most picturesque of the five 
courts, has an outer gallery on a level with the state apart 
ments, and it was usual for the kings and queens, and their 
attendants, to assemble on it on various occasions of out¬ 
door shows. The cure after the hunt, or letting the dogs 
loose on the dead stag that they might eat it, was one 
of the frequent sights. This was usually after dark, and 
while the ladies and gentlemen stood on the gallery, any 
of the people who chose came into the court below. There 
was generally a crowd, as this was considered, and indeed 
is now at an inhabited castle, an interesting event, and is 
rarely omitted when a stag is caught. As it takes place by 
torchlight, there certainly must be in the “cour ovale'' 
Rembrandt-like effects of light and shade thrown by its 
irregular shape and many salient points and the glare 
whenever a cure is held. 

The town of Fontainebleau has several religious institu¬ 
tions. We attended the little chapel of the Carmellite 
Convent on the occasion of an interesting occurrence dur¬ 
ing our stay. We went an hour before the service began, 
in order to be sure of getting a seat, yet we found the 
chapel more than half full, and soon it became packed, 
and the open space outside invaded for standing-room. 

The event which brought this crowded 

Taking the Veil. . . .... 

congregation ot part-curious and criticising 
and part-sympathising spectators was the taking of the 
black veil by a lady who had just completed the usual 
preparatory novitiate. Though the door behind the grat¬ 
ing on the right hand of the altar was closed, we could 


102 


mildred russell’s letters. 


hear the chanting of the nuns behind it, and even distin¬ 
guished some of their words, such as “ Ora pro nobis P and 
similar petitions following each other closely. Soon after 
the nuns had finished, one of the two attached to the con¬ 
vent, whose duty it is to transact the affairs connected 
with the outer world, and who therefore goes about un¬ 
veiled, came out and lighted the candles, and attended to 
the other duties of a servitor. She looked rather odd 
moving about the space surrounding the altar in her 
quaint gauffred cap and clinging black garments. The 
bell began to toll, and then the doors behind the grating 
opened, and we saw through the bars the veiled sisters 
flitting backwards and forwards. 'The singing boys and 
priests came in, the bell tolled again, and a movement 
of expectation vibrated through the congregation. At last 
the young lady about to take the vows arrived. She was 
dressed as a bride, in a white satin dress with a long train, 
a wreath of orange-blossoms on her head, and a bridal 
veil of tulle. She carried a tall candle in her hand, and 
walked up the aisle, serene and composed, and leaning on 
the arm of her mother. Her father, two brothers, and 
a lady friend followed. The family party seated them¬ 
selves in front of the grating, and the service began. 
After a few chants, a preacher ascended the pulpit and 
delivered a sermon, or rather an address, to the new sister, 
dwelling especially on the life of prayer and contempla¬ 
tion, to which this order is devoted, and on the satisfac¬ 
tion to be derived from it. 

Giving the blessing. When the address was over the Bishop 

gave the blessing, then he headed the 
procession of priests and acolytes, which closed with the 
“bride” and her family. They walked out of the church 
to a small door in the conyeqt wall, near which the priests 


VISIT TO FONTAINEBLEAU. IO3 

divided, some standing one side some the other, in order 
that the bride and her family might pass through. The 
bride seemed thrilling with ecstasy and emotion, and re¬ 
gardless of incidental circumstances; for when her long 
train stuck on the damp, muddy ground and hindered her 
walking, and one of her brothers stooped and bore it up, 
she did not seem to notice it, excepting that, the hindrance 
being removed, she passed on. At the door of the con¬ 
vent wall she turned and kissed her family, then, kneeling 
by the threshold, she kissed the bishop’s hand and received 
his blessing. As she rose, we saw through the open door¬ 
way the heavily veiled sisters of the order and the other 
nuns waiting to receive her, then the door was shut, 
the sound of closing heavy bars was heard, and the people 
without returned to the church. The service continued 
while the new nun was being disrobed of her bridal attire, 
and before it was over we saw through the grating some 
of the veiled sisters approach, one of whom we were told 
was the novice. The French law forbids religious vows 
to be made for more than a year, at the expiration of 
which they may be renewed or the convent may be left; 
as a rule, however, the nuns remain faithful to the order 
which they have adopted. The bridal dresses worn by 
the novices on the day they take the veil are cut up and 
embroidered for priests’ vestments. 

Mildred Russell. 


FROM PARIS TO NICE. 

December , 1885. 

We left Paris at seven o’clock in the evening, and at 
that moment the streets were looking far brighter by lamp- 



io 4 Mildred Russell’s letters, 

light than we had seen them for some time, for the 
weather had been atrocious. No good, honest cold 
weather, but damp and muggy, and really too warm for 
winter clothing, while we shivered in thinner; so in spite 
of its many attractions, we were not sorry to leave the gay 
city for the Riviera. We passed Lyons in the night, and 
looking out on it through the car-windows, we pronounced 
it a city of really respectable size, even judged from an 
American point of view. By daybreak we passed Monte- 
lemar, its ancient, ruined castle, and a stretch of pretty 
scenery, and before long we came on the olive-groves, 
which announce a warmer climate. Then we began to 
think we had brought too many fur rugs and cloaks, 
and wished we had not travelled in our Scotch summer 
clothing, and we abused the railway company for heating 
the cars. Soon we came to Avignon, and that took our at¬ 
tention off whilst we discussed Laura and Petrarch, the 
Popes, and John Stuart Mill. We agreed, however, it 
would be better to let John Mill rest in his quiet grave 
without further comment, while we enjoyed the feeling of 
being in the land of romance and poetry. 

At Tarrasyon, an old castle, and beside it the spire of a 
fourteenth-century church, plainly proclaimed a time long 
antedating railways, when sites were chosen so that people 
could not get at the towns, and not because they could. 
King Rene, of Anjou, the minstrel king and friend of 
every singer, was once lord of this country, and Tarrasyon 
was his capital. Every mile makes us realize we are ad¬ 
vancing into the South, though as yet we are but on the 
edge of it. The country people begin to have the happy- 
go-lucky look of the South, and do not wear themselves 
out by hurrying up and down. Their soft Provenyal ac¬ 
cent strikes pleasantly on the ear in spite of its character 


FROM PARIS TO NICE. 


10 5 

tor barbarity having been instilled into us from a Parisian 
point of view. The ever-widening Rhone, and more and 
more olive-trees, trimmed flat on the top so as to catch all 
possible sunlight and ripen the fruit early, and then we come 
to Marseilles. From this point the real beauty of the jour¬ 
ney begins, and after a short time we see the Mediterra¬ 
nean, soft and calm, and rocks, islands, and olive-groves in 
profusion. 'The olive trees are no longer trimmed to a 
certain shape, as in the country north of Marseilles, for 
here they easily get sun enough, and are allowed to grow 
as they choose. In the sunlight they look as if they were 
pale-green snow-clouds enshrouded in a haze of lazy pas¬ 
sivity. 

'1'he systematic olive-pickers gather the fruit from the 
tree by hand. Having ascended by means of a ladder, 
they go leisurely to work either because they have nothing 
else to do, or because they enjoy this occupation, and so 
spin it out as long as possible. Others let the fruit fall on 
the ground, and all along our Riviera route we saw groups 
of old women and girls employed in picking it up. If the 
olives are needed for oil, they are left on the tree till they 
turn quite black, as in that state they have more oil in them. 
Soon after leaving Marseilles we were quite overcome with 
the heat, and suddenly decided to pack up rugs and wraps 
and bid them a cheerful adieu. 

After Toulon, the Mediterranean and the orange-trees 

# e 

are the constant companions of our journey, and bring us 
to the beginning of the Riviera, its endless sheltered bays 
covered with towns and villages that have now become the 
winter homes of many natives of northern countries. 'Phis 
whole coast has. been appropriated, and each year the 
towns and villages are increasing in size. Cannes, the 
aristocratic dame of them all, is not seen at her best as 


9 


106 mildred russell’s letters. 

we pass her in the railway. In the bay of the next stop¬ 
ping-place, Antibes, eight of the French fleet were at 
anchor, but these big war-ships, though fine to look at, 
seemed a little out of character with this quiet, peaceful 
sea and health-sought-for shore. 

A few minutes brought us to Nice, our destina¬ 
tion, and to summer weather. We sat with the 
windows open most days, and all day long loitered about 
by the sea and under the olive and orange-trees. One af¬ 
ternoon we drove by the lower Corniche road that skirts 
the sea to the Bay of Villefranca, where the Pensacola, 
with the stars and stripes flying, lay at anchor. If she 
is not the biggest ship in the world, she is at any rate 
popular, and much better-looking from an unprejudiced 
land point of view than many of her more warlike and 
dreaded foreign cousins. 

We made an excursion to Cannes, which pre- 

Oannes. 

sents a different appearance when seen from its 
streets to what it does from the railway. Few places have 
a larger collection of villas of all kinds and sizes, some 
low down on the esplanade close on the sea, others on the 
slopes of the hills and half hidden in lovely gardens, and 
some high up and commanding wide-sweeping views, but 
necessitating an amount of climbing that only the active 
are capable of undergoing. There are several large hotels 
redeemed from some of the nuisances of their class by 
having true Riviera gardens of palms, orange trees, and 
an abundance of flowers, where guests can appropriate 
odd nooks and corners, and not be continuously before 
each other’s eyes. And all the houses and gardens bathed 
in sunshine! 

The day was perfect. The Mediterranean was a deep 
blue; the mountains at each end of the Bay of Napoule, 


A CHARMING DRIVING TOUR. 


107 


on which Cannes is situated, and which protect it, were soft 
and hazy, and the air was pleasantly bracing. We drove 
along the shore to a large orange-grove, the so-called gar¬ 
den of Hesperides; then we mounted the side of the hill, 
and went towards Frejus, then back again to the Cap de la 
Croisette, where we mounted a rock to see the view, which 
includes a long, wavy sea line, mountains, and the Island 
of St. Marguerite. Imagine a place where all the ele¬ 
ments combine to show themselves to the best advantage, 
and then add every comfort of high and refined civiliza¬ 
tion, and that will be a picture of Cannes. Our charming 
Nice looked rather gav and flaunting to us after our visit 
to her simpler and more aristocratic sister. Both revel in 
flowers. Cannes pours them out over her garden walls, as 
if there were really no room for them within; but Nice 
gathers them in, and crams many a shop-window in over¬ 
whelming profusion. Mildred Russell. 


A CHARMINCx DRIVINCx TOUR. 

Genoa, December , 1886. 

A drive along the Riviera in winter has the advantage 
of an absence of dust and of long hours of blinding sun¬ 
shine, two elements that are very unpleasant in the warmer 
months. The days, too, being short, no temptation arises 
to take such long distances as to weary out the travellers 
beyond any possibility of enjoyment and to make them 
lose courage and take to the railway. It is true that, in 
choosing the month we did, there is a risk of encountering 
wet days; but as we did not have any, we pity the people 
born less lucky than we were, and do not let the objection 
count. We went the first part of the way in a landau as 



108 Mildred russell’s letters, 

afternoon drives, And started from Nice. As soon as we 
left the town a third horse was added to help us up the 
hill, which at first we hardly realized as the only one, and 
comprising nearly half the distance to Monte Carlo. The 
two driving routes between Nice and Mentone are called 
respectively the old and new Corniche roads The old 
Corniche, which we chose, was made by Napoleon I., and 
is very striking. It is broad and well-made, and on the 
whole safe-looking, whicli is saying a good deal when its 
extremely winding character is taken into consideration. 
The ascent is surprisingly well-graded and uniform, and 
nowhere does it come under the definition of very steep. 

The views along it have a world-wide 

Beautiful views. . . 

celebrity for beauty, and we were lucky in 
having perfect weather to enjoy them. As we mounted, 
we saw the whole plan of Nice, and the advantage of po¬ 
sition of its ancient castle, once strongly fortified, now 
turned into a pleasure resort. It is situated on a de¬ 
tached hill, with steep rocks towards the sea, and narrow, 
sharply-sloping sides inland. The tops of the snow-cov¬ 
ered Alps and an expanse of sea formed our next view; 
then we came to the heart of the mountains, and gradu¬ 
ally winding reached the observatory; then, higher and 
higher, we came on the Ladelt Foit, and then further on 
to the Pacanaille. These forts are at the summit of the 
pass, and command the road on both inclinations, and 
they are kept in effective condition. Though nothing 
could be wilder than this part, yet occasionally a little 
nook sheltered to the north and exposed to the lull south 
was cultivated with vegetables. 

After the forts, we passed for some time along the barren, 
steep side of a mountain of solid rock, and then we began 
the descent, and soon came on an exquisite peep of the Meai- 


A CHARMING DRIVING TOUR. I09 

terranean far below us, and softly blue, but not the magic 
blue ol the spring. Ahead of us we saw some perpendicu¬ 
lar rocks with a fanciful resemblance to a ruined and de¬ 
serted city dropped down from the clouds. 

, . Soon we disputed over them, and one of 

A curious village. 

our party argued that they might be inha¬ 
bited dwellings, without, however, convincing the rest. A 
mile or two further brought us to a less precipitous side of 
them, and we discovered they formed a veritable village at 
the top of a mound-like hill, and approached by a peril- 
ously-steep and winding road. At the same time that we 
saw this curious village of Kza, we had an almost limitless 
view of the sea and its deeply-waved coast. 

After awhile we came to “La Turbie," a village at the 
summit of the ridge connecting Mount Agel and the Tete 
de Chien. This is a favorable point for pedestrian excur¬ 
sions from Monte Carlo for those who can accomplish the 
feat of climbing up a mountain side nearly as steep as 
a house wall, and who can also tear themselves away from 
the Casino. La. i urbie is immediately above Monte 
Carlo, though entirely hidden from it, with the exception 
of the top of its old Roman tower. This village came on 
us unexpectedly, as none of us dreamed of finding one so 
high up. It has a magnificent view, and was decidedly 
the most Italian-looking place we had seen, some of the 
houses being built with the true Italian loggia or verandah 
on the roof, either open through or formed by having a 
recess railed off in front of the house, instead of having 
a continuous straight wall. The round tower, a Toman 
construction, with one side sliced off by age or misfortune, 
is supposed to have been built under Augustus, to com¬ 
memorate the final subjugation of the native tribes, and to 
have been used for hanging up the trophies of victory. 


1 IO 


mildred russell’s letters* 


From this point the road continues to descend steadily* 
and almost immediately after leaving La Turbie, we caught 
sight of the dome of the Casino. We skirted the barren 
and rocky, precipitous side of the range of mountains with 
a tingling sensation in the soles of our boots. Not that 
there was any danger, but looking down at the sea, almost 
sixteen hundred feet beneath, did not impress us with 
a sense of security, in spite of the goodness of the road. 
However, we pretended we did not mind it in the least. 

We trotted along at a good pace for some time high up 
above Monte Carlo, and then we left it behind us till we 
came to bur last village, Roquebrune, and in sight of Men¬ 
tone. There we made a sudden turn backwards, and 
came nearly down to the edge of the sea We forget it is 
winter. 'The ornamental trees in the gardens are beauti¬ 
fully green, and though the roses are but scattered, the 
walls are still covered with heliotrope in blossom, and the 
morning-glories are rampant. 

The next morning we threw open the windows, to let in 
the soft, balmy air, donned our summer clothing, and soon 
sallied out to enjoy a stroll round. l'he French fleet 
were off the bay, with the intention of going through their 
gun and torpedo practice. We saw the water spout up far 
beyond where we had thought the horizon was, but it was 
impossible for us to judge how far the shots went. It was 
quite an interesting sight. The ships were first drawn up 
in line, firing one after another; then they were drawn up 
in two lines diagonally from the shore and fired again. 

During our visit to Monte Carlo, we saw guests who 
were here in the spring. We wondered if they were pass- 
ers-through like ourselves, or if they have been here gam-, 
bling hard all the time. We also wondered if they made 
the same remarks about us. 


A CHARMING DRIVING TOUR. I I I 

From Mentone we made our real start on 

The real start. 

the driving tour We had a carriage drawn 
by four horses, with bells round their necks and foxes’ 
tails dangling from their heads. 'The baggage was satis¬ 
factorily packed up behind, after a good many ways of 
arranging it had been tried, and we started at two o’clock 
for San Remo, expecting to be there in a couple of hours, 
but the crescent moon was shining in the cloudless sky 
when we arrived. 

It was a lovely drive. We literally passed through a 
land of palms and olives and sweet-scented heliotrope. 

The next morning we were up in good time, and were 
off soon after nine o’clock. Most of the day we saw the 
island of Corsica on the horizon, like a heavy, well-defir.3d 
cloud, too far away for us to distinguish anything on it ex¬ 
cepting that we thought we saw snow on the mountains. 
At twelve o’clock we stopped at Oneglia. and in less than 
half an hour luncheon was ready for us at the wayside inn. 
The whole country is thick with olive-trees, and Oneglia 
and the neighboring towns near are chiefly occupied in 
making oil. By two o'clock we started from Oneglia, and 
arrived at Alassio about five o’clock. There were two 
guests in the .hotel; one was a deaf gentleman who had 
held undisputed possession for six weeks; the other was a 
lady who had been in residence for two days only, and 
who vigorously endeavored to communicate all her ideas 
and opinions to the deaf gentleman, who did not want to 
hear them. The latter complained bitterly of her to one 
of our party, so we sometimes wonder how they ended up. 
Alassio has a good beach, and is a summer bathing-place 
much visited by the Italians. Next day we lunched at Fi- 
lialmente, and made a hurried visit to a handsome renais¬ 
sance church, designed by the noted architect, Bernini. 


I 12 

We slept at Savona, a town charmingly situated, but within, 
it has an ultra-democratic, defiant look, that scarcely har¬ 
monizes with its surroundings. As we leit next morning, 
we saw a young man, about twenty, lolling against a mar¬ 
ble pillar with an ease and grace and true comfort impos¬ 
sible for practical people to attain, whose stiffness of mmd 
keeps their bodies rigid, and refuses to lend itself to any 
such Sybarite relaxation. We often see men lying down 
on stone benches, or sitting on stone posts, with more than 
the exultant air of enjoyment that a small darky has on a 
barebacked mule. But our friend at Savona surpassed 
them all. He revelled in that stone column for a resting- 
place, and looked as if no other luxury in the world could 
tempt him i way from it. 

From Savona we went to Cajoleto, one of the many 
places on this shore claiming to be the birthplace of Co¬ 
lumbus. Whilst luncheon was being prepared, we walked 
back to see the “ House of Columbus,” and found a fresco 
of him on the outside, and the well-known Latin lines 
about his having found a new world. 

Our next halt was at Genoa, the point where the two 
Rivieras meet. This drive through the western one had 
revealed a new aspect of Italy to us. We had passed 
through some old towns with more than a suspicion of 
likeness in many ways to others all over Europe, but in 
the main they are vastly different to those where travellers 
usually stay, and where the hotels are but a slight varia¬ 
tion from those of London or Paris. 'These old towns 
(many of them are very small) have houses in them as 
high as ordinary New York ones The principal street 
leading between these high houses, and through which we 
usually drove, is so narrow that any foot passengers in 
them at the same time that we were had to place them- 



mildred russell’s letters. 


V 



A CHARMING DRIVING TOUR. 113 

selves flat against the walls so as to get out of our way. 
We found our way of travelling delightful. We fully ap¬ 
preciated having nothing to do but to get into a carriage 
at the hotel door and start without further trouble, instead 
of facing the hubbub of a railway station. Then the 
views were beautiful. We saw the wavy outline of the 
coast far ahead, and behind us the sloping or steep sides 
of the hills covered with olive-trees, and occasionally with 
pines, and the Mediterranean the very picture of calmness. 
Many of the villages are perched high up on the terraced 
hills, and sometimes the children came running full tilt 
down from them by the long flights of steps made over 
the terraced ground. We were objects of curiosity, as 
people rarely drive through this district now, and we only 
met one carriage between Nice and Spezia, excepting 
close on the big towns. 

We had many a sight of the snow-capped 
8 l mouirta^ns m °untains, bold rocks coming down to the 
sea, and fishing villages and bathing resorts 
clustered by the water’s edge. At Savona there is some 
pretence at shipping, as well as at one or two small places. 
On the whole* however, we were greatly surprised to see 
so few ships. 

Our actual drive into Genoa was the least pleasant of 
any part, as we went through rather pitiful-looking suburbs 
for .about six miles. All the houses are large and high, 
and are divided on the tenement system, which, however, 
rises to the apartment one when inhabited by people who 
can afford to pay for large suites of rooms. The windows of 
these large houses, except those dwelt in by really wealthy 
tenants, are decorated with the family linen and other cloth¬ 
ing hung out to dry or air, and this custom gives a deplora¬ 
bly poverty-stricken appearance, even though the garments 


114 mildred russell’s letters. 

exhibited are pretty good. We certainly considered six 
miles of it a little too much, especially when we had to 
bear the nuisance of tramways all along the route, and 
found it impossible to dodge the rails. For once we 
were truly thankful to be out of the carriage and at rest in 
the hotel. Mildred Russell. 


FLORENCE. 

Florence, December , 1885 

Genoa is the coldest and windiest spot on the Riviera, 
and we felt the change of temperature considerably, though 
in our last two days’ drive it had been much less warm 
than from Nice to Mentone. The people of Genoa are 
always busy, and have not acquired the true Italian art of 
loitering around; but still some well-dressed passers-by did 
not disdain to stand and see us set off from the hotel for 
the completion of our driving tour. 

Our first travelling carriage having been 
Fl g“ z ^ a enoa to sent back to Nice, we took another, and 
started for the two days’ drive from Genoa to 
Spezia. Similar beautiful views of sea and mountain, and 
picturesque ones of villages, lie on this route as on the 
other. Most of the houses we saw the first morning were 
painted elaborately on the outside in all sorts of designs. 
A favorite one is to have the blank sides painted as if 
they had rows of windows opening on to balconies or 
loggie- These windows usually have some of the green 
sun-blinds partially open so as to allow different members 
of the family to be represented as looking out, or else 
standing and bending over the railings of the verandah. 
The effect is rather striking at first, though after a while 



FLORENCE. 


IJ 5 

the repetition of the same idea, with very little variety of 
expression, becomes monotonous. Some of the houses 
are handsomely painted, but some very crudely, especially 
as to the figures. 

Nery . The small town of Nervi is a much-frequented 
winter resort for delicate people to whom living 
in the open air is a necessity. In summer the Italians go 
to it for bathing, but the town has no pretension to fashion¬ 
able appearance, for it is quite small, has its villas far 
apart, and is embedded in lemon trees, so that it is tho¬ 
roughly rural. We lunched at Ruta, a village, to say the 
least, of modest belongings, but with a view of the sea and 
Genoa to the west that might atone for many deficiencies. 
Our afternoon drive was as beautiful as any we had taken. 
The towns—especially Rapallo and Chiavari—seen from 
a distance, look absolutely as if they are in the sea. They 
are placed on the flat land between the water’s edge and 
the rising ground, and in the afternoon sunlight lost all 
prosaic reality and turned into poetic daughters of the 
ocean. It was getting dark when we came to Sestri Le- 
vante, our resting-place for the night. No lights were in 
the town, and our hotel was approached by an undeniably 
back street, preceded by others at awkward angles for a 
vehicle like ours. When we drew up it was opposite the 
gloomiest looking houses, which did not offer a very at¬ 
tractive picture, but the hotel fortunately turned out better 
than we expected. Next morning we were off in good 
time, for though this day’s drive from Sestri Tevante to 
Spezia was to be only a little longer than the others, the 
first half was nearly an uninterrupted ascent. 

If not as famous as the Corniche from 

A pleasant drive. 

Nice to Mentone, it is as beautiful and more 
varied in character. As we went up we passed masses of 


116 mildred russell’s letters. 

ice in the spots the sun failed to reach; and though we 
had no reason to complain of the cold, we could quite 
understand how intense it might be. We were told it is 
impossible for travellers to take this Bracco pass when it 
is windy weather, on account of its being so much ex¬ 
posed at many places, that it added the danger of being 
blown over the precipices to a temperature unpleasantly 
low. In the many windings we made, we saw some of the 
most primitive villages and people we had yet come across. 
Sometimes we were in bends of the mountains where olive- 
groves and vineyards were flourishing, then we made a turn, 
and skirted the bleakest of mountain-sides, where not a 
blade of anything grew along the road, that seemed to be 
hanging over unfathomable depths. 

Hjal We went up about 2,200 feet, the highest part 

being amid bare serpentine rocks, that had a 
gloomy, forbidding aspect. We took luncheon at Bor- 
ghetto. a primitive, uninteresting village, planted in a 
lovely spot. We next went for some time by the side of 
the Vara, a mountain torrent stream, with nearly dry bed 
when we passed. Then we began to descend steadily, and 
as we came towards Spezia the vineyards increased in 
number and size, very high hills being terraced to the top 
to form them. Every nook where the sun falls is utilized 
for cultivation, but where the exposure is such that the 
ground is always in shadow, nothing seems able to be 
grown. Spezia seemed to be a long time in coming, and 
we began to think it would be too dark for us to see it on 
entering, but suddenly, just after sunset, the bay and town 
burst into sight, brightened up by the light of the moon. 
It was a lovely scene. We were high up the side of one 
of the steep mountains that encircle the Bay of Spezia, 
and far below, and almost beneath our feet, lay the town, 


FLORENCE. 


117 

so that it seemed as if we must drop perpendicularly into 
the middle of it instead of driving down. We descended 
by a steeply-graded winding road, that gave an opportu¬ 
nity of seeing the bay from many different points, the Car¬ 
rara mountains, tipped with white, and the Italian war¬ 
ships forming a not inharmonious feature, backed up by 
the palest red and green and gold of the fading sunset sky. 

Next morning we took a row on the bay, sim- 
°of Spezia Pty f° r enjoyment and to localize its poetic as¬ 
sociations. We looked up at the castle once 
the residence of Shelley and Byron, and wondered that 
surroundings so calm and gentle could not have tamed 
those fiery spirits. The Italian Government is increasing 
the size of the dock-yard at Spezia considerably, and I pre¬ 
sume would like to carry out the great Napoleon’s dream, 
and make it the first in the world. Several large ships 
were in the docks, some being cleaned and renovated, and 
others in process of construction. The greater part of the 
important machinery in use comes from England, and the 
name of Armstrong, a well-known English maker, appears 
repeatedly on the different pieces. There was one crane 
used for lifting the heaviest parts of the iron-clads into po¬ 
sition that was formidable in size and power, and made one 
shudder as it lifted an enormous iron casing and trans¬ 
ported it to the deck of the ship. We rowed out to see 
the Italia, the largest iron-clad afloat, and the pride of 
Italy at present. We spent half an hour on board, and 
saw the big guns and other show parts. The line of forti- 
cations is clearly seen from the bay, and shows an evident 
determination in the Italians to protect themselves at all 
hazards. 

Our rooms looked over the bay, and from morning to 
night we found the greatest pleasure in watching the chang- 
10 


118 mildred russell’s letters. 

ing aspects of its beauty; early morning, its soft calmness; 
midday, with a blaze of sunshine pouring on it and flash¬ 
ing back a thousand sparkling lights and contrasting 
shadows, and the chastened moonlight throwing a mystic 
halo over it—all had their charms. We could not make 
up our minds when we liked it best; but as we took leave 
of it in broad day, the tyranny of last impressions seized us } 
and we decided that it is best when arrayed to defy the 
strictest scrutiny. 

A couple of hours by train brought us to Pisa, across a 
flat, marshy-looking country formed around the mouths of 
the Arno. We stayed a couple of days to see the sights 
again—the Cathedral, Leaning Tower, Baptistery, and an¬ 
cient burial-ground. As usual after absence from anything 
really beautiful, we had lost the impression of their attrac¬ 
tiveness. It seemed we had half forgotten how well they 
stood and how easily the whole could be seen at a glance. 

We often talk over our pleasant trip, and conjure up re¬ 
membrances of the delicious morning air, the exquisite 
dreamy feeling ot going along for hours in succession at 
an easy jog-trot, the ever-changing, ever lovely views, and 
last, and not least, the sense of not having to keep our 
minds and bodies up to the exact second of railway and 
Roman time. The inns where we stayed for luncheon 
always afforded us, among other things, macaroni, chickens, 
wine, coffee, and fruit; sometimes they were very good, 
and sometimes they were only medium; but they were 
luckily never all poor at the same place, so that if one 
failed we could make up on the others. As we came 
along we were constantly afraid of losing the fine weather, 
but except for the cold winds at Genoa, it was good 
enough to bear us company to the end, and not till we 
were domiciled in Florence did we realize that winter 
had caught us in its grasp. Mildred Russell. 


SIGHT-SEEING IN FLORENCE. 


II 9 


SIGHT-SEEING IN BEAUTIFUL FLORENCE. 

Florence , January, 1886. 

We arrived in Florence for the holidays, and tried to 
make ourselves as comfortable as possible, considering we 
were far from home at Christmas-time, and in a country 
where the houses refused to be thoroughly warmed. Our 
parlor was large with that largeness, and empty with that 
emptiness, only to be found in Italy. The wood-fire 
burned on the hearth certainly, but it looked small—on a 
kind of inverse-ratio plan—and needed a field-glass to see 
it from the other end of the room with any sort of effect¬ 
iveness. We shivered freely, and it was only after a con¬ 
siderable amount of this exertion that we succeeded in 
warming ourselves and raising our spirits. We afterwards 
changed our apartments and had a parlor less grand in Ita¬ 
lian eyes, and fortunately less gloomy and penetratingly cold. 
The bed of the Arno was very low when we arrived, but 
after a few days it rained heavily, which caubed the river to 
rise so high that, in spite of being told it was impossible, we 
were afraid the river would overflow its banks. Just op¬ 
posite our hotel there is a weir, over which the water 
rushes with a continuous roar that sometimes becomes 
exasperating. By going out on the balcony and looking 
up stream, we can see the three bridges that cross the 
river near the heart of the town. The farthest ofi is the 
Ponte Vecchio, whose double row of shops, doomed shortly 
to be taken down, is not the least picturesque part of the 
scene. The three bridges cut the river and throw sha¬ 
dows across it in the broad sunlight, and the tall houses on 
the opposite side contribute an irregular line of reflection, 
so that, whether the Arno is thick with yellow mud or 


I 20 


mtldred russell’s letters. 

comparatively clear, flowing quietly or tearing along over 
the shallow weir, there is always a variety of tints on 
it. 'Then campaniles, church-domes, loggie-house-roofs of 
every height and sloping at every angle, are on the sky¬ 
line, and what we lack in warmth and comfort we can 
make up in beauty. And then some days are magnificent, 
and give us a soft blue and silvery sky and a genial sun, 
when every one refuses to believe in the treacherous side 
of the winter climate of Florence. 

Notwithstanding our steady sight-seeing last year, we 
find after all that it was very superficial when the quantity 
of notable things to be seen is taken into account. The 
Pitti, the most regal picture gallery in the world, I should 
think, adjoins the royal residence of the same name, and 
is oh a level with the state apartments, and on occasions 
of court ceremony is used for additional reception-rooms for 
the guests. It would not be easy for any king or queen to 
assemble greater living celebrities than there are portraits 
of such, both men and women, on the walls. Nor could 
they surpass them in appearance, with respect to beauty, 
grace or dignity. Just now we have been studying the 
portraits, and trying to decide whether these characteristic 
individuals were flattered tremendously by the painters, or 
really had that impressiveness about them; or did the 
painter catch their accumulated character at a g’ance, as 
it were, and fix it on the canvas for ever ? 

A masterpiece of portraiture is Pope Julius II. as an 
old man. He is seated on a high-backed chair with his 
hands on the arms of it, and his keen eye and determined 
face make the spectator feel that he is accustomed to rule. 
Then another Pope, Leo X., a heavy-looking man, whose 
appearance is redeemed by that aggressive personality 
that fascinates and almost commands by its own weight. 




SIGHT-SEEING IN FLORENCE. 12 i 

Not far away are the refined and aristocratic, blit sad look- 
ing Charles I. of England, and his Queen, painted by Van 
Dyck. Cardinal Inghirami, by Raphael, is perhaps as 
striking as any. He is writing, and, doubting what to say, 
has raised his compact, massive head in tliought, per¬ 
plexed indeed, but by no means approaching bewilderment. 
His plump hands, wonderfully painted, show strong indi¬ 
cations of power. Besides the portraits, there are endless 
other pictures, among them numerous Madonnas, headed 
for true, pure beauty, by the tc Madonna della Seggioula,” 
well known by copies and prints. It is a round picture, 
in which the Madonna is seated in a chair, with the infant 
Christ on her knee and John the Baptist at her side. It is 
admired for the softly-loving expression of the young mo 
ther. and the truth to nature of the children, and, except 
for the glories round the heads, it is of a thoroughly mun¬ 
dane and charming type. This gallery contains six large 
rooms of pictures of the highest class, and several others of 
only slightly inferior interest. 

We walked through the passage connecting the Pitti 
with the Uffizi gallery, on the other side of the Arno. It 
is lined with hundreds of portraits of well-known people, 
kings, queens, popes, princes and rulers of republics, most 
of them badly painted, but studied for periods of costume 
and for history. Following the portraits are engravings of 
different nations. 

In the Uffizi gallery the arrangement is not the same as 
in the Pitti, for all the best pictures are collected in one 
room—the Tribune, octagonal in shape. These pictures 
form a group representative of the chief painters, and sur¬ 
passes most others of the same size in artistic value. The 
domed ceiling of the Tribune has a painted background 
studded thickly with mother-of-pearl shells, and it is lighted 


122 


mildred russell’s letters. 


from the top. Professionals copy and re-copy the pictures 
in this room, and their easels take up so much space that 
they prevent sight-seers from inspecting the originals tho¬ 
roughly. 

In addition, there are five pieces of sculpture in the cen¬ 
tre, which create an effect of still closer crowding. The 
statues are worthy of a room to themselves, and their 
fame is world-wide. After the Venus di Medici rank 
“The Wrestlers,” taken just at the moment when one 
is overthrown and the other is still bending down over 
him, and the “Knife-Grinder,” a Scythian, whetting his 
knife with the greatest gusto, and gloating over the idea of 
slaying Marsyas. In the picture of the “ Madonna with 
the Cardinal Bird,’’ by Raphael, the young Christ and St. 
John stand by the seated mother, and are sturdy, lovely 
children. Correggio shows the adoring mother kneeling 
and bending over her baby with intense affection in bright 
yet harmonious coloring. 'Fill one has been many times 
to these galleries, it is impossible to attain to a just appre¬ 
ciation of the beautiful pictures they contain. Then there 
are many that, without any claim to beauty, illustrate a 
period of history or art or a sentiment, and are on these 
accounts worth studying. Above all, if any one would 
have the dimmest, true idea of the renaissance that made 
Italy what it was at its greatest lustre, he must come to 
Florence. For the walls of its churches are covered with 

the visible thoughts that influenced that era, 

Visible thoughts. . ... 

innumerable paintings in the galleries bear 
witness to the culminating point, and its grand buildings— 
all unlike each other—testify to the originality of their de¬ 
signers in a way that is not seen in other cities. 

In the sacristy of the Church of San Lorenzo are some 
of the best-known and admired statues of Michael Angelo 


SIGHT-SEEING IN FLORENCE. 


I23 


—“Day and Night,” “Evening and Dawn.” They are 
recumbent, and consist of a male and female figure in 
each group placed facing each other, and surmounted by a 
portrait statue of one of the Medici family. They are 
allegorical, but no one knows exactly what they mean, so 
each can interpret them according to his own fancy. In 
gazing at them, one has an uneasy feeling that all sorts of 
emotions, and aspirations, and woes, and miseries are stowed 
away in these marble figures just as they are in our living, 
human brotherhood that throng around us. In thinking of 
them afterwards, one misses a certain inexpressible, indefin¬ 
able charm that attracts one so powerfully when one stands 
before them, so that the remembrance of them, and actually 
looking at them, are two experiences that are sundered 
by gulfs of distance not to be spanned. Perhaps it is akin 
to the difference of being near our pleasantest friends and 
being far away from them. 

The Spanish chapel in the cloisters of St. Maria No¬ 
vella is entirely covered with frescoes. One side is the 
“Church Militant” and the “Church Triumphant,” and 
among the numerous persons depicted are Cimabue, one 
of the earliest painters of note, Giotto, his pupil, who 
worked on the Cathedral and designed the Campanile, 
Petrarch and Laura, Philippe le Bel, of France, Boccacio, 
and Simone Memmi, said by some to be the principal 
painter of the chapel—an attractive set of people, who 
have kept their hold over other people’s minds five hun¬ 
dred years. 

Modern Florence is interesting, too. Many 

surrounding ^ t j Florentines, besides having houses or 
country. 0 

apartments inside the town, have also villas 
within a short distance of it. The whole surrounding 
country is dotted with the villas, usually so planted as to 


124 


mildred russell’s letters 


have the advantage of the magnificent views. We drove 
to Fiesole, an ancient town of note, and now a suburb ot 
Florence, situated on the summit of one of the many hills 
near, and about two miles from the heart of the town. 
But as it is almost all up-hill, the distance seems much 
greater. Its bell-tower stands high, and seen from the val¬ 
ley. with a background of blue sky, is a well-known land¬ 
mark. From Fiesole we went to the castle of Vincicaglia, 
recently built by an English gentleman, in imitation of an 
old one. Though the outside is etfective, on entering it 
one perceives at once that it is a sham, and has never 
stood a siege, in spite of having a solid wall of masonry 
round it, parapets, turrets, narrow, steep stone stairs, oak 
doors with mediaeval iron-work on them, and numberless 
suitable small details. It has the sunniest of gardens, and 
must be a charming place for summer picnics—the only 
kind of use to which the owner puts it. 

Another modern castellated mansion is much more 
captivating to the fancy and likely to stir up all kinds of 
romantic thoughts. It is built in the style of a baronial 
hall, and stands on the slope of a hill so sheltered that 
palms and tender plants will bear winter exposure. The 
garden is of the true villa type, having busts and statues 
along most of its varied walks. 

Within it is a veritable museum of rare and 

A museum. 

beautiful objects, happily toned down to such a 
point as to make it a luxurious habitation for a family of 
cultivated tastes, and not merely a show place. The 
largest apartment in the house is a superb double hall or 
armory, said to contain the richest collection of rare pieces 
and suits of armor in the world. We did not doubt it, as 
we do many tales that are told us. 'The whole is genuine, 
except the copy of one in London and of one in the 


SIGHT-SEEING IN FLORENCE. 


1 2 5 


Paris armory. The latter is entirely covered with heroic 
scenes in relief. In this armory of the villa are fourteen 
knights on horseback, and in full armor, some ready for 
battle, and some for the tournament. Each one corre¬ 
sponds in every point to a certain era, and several of them 
originally belonged to noted captains. Warriors were 
ready for battle, armed cap-a-pie , others with chain-armor 
on, or with breast-plate, greaves, and gauntlets, stood or 
sat round by the dozen, and were realistic as well as pic¬ 
turesque. There were scores of gauntlets of all descrip¬ 
tions, spears, and bucklers of Japanese, Persian, and 
pretty well every kind of armor that ever was seen. 

We wandered up and down amid the knights with 
plumed or crested helmets and caparisoned horses, and 
talked of the days of chivalry and what amount of diffi¬ 
culty there would be in guessing who was who when 
hearts beat and eyes flashed behind these layers of steel. 
A balcony at one end of this hall overlooks the whole 
length of it, and gives a more impressive sight than this 
sort of thing usually presents. Because of the arrange¬ 
ment, one might almost believe that the knights were only 
waiting the signal to begin, and there would be a tremen¬ 
dous onslaught, 'l'he rest of the rooms are decorated in 
a sumptuous manner with gold-and-silver embroidered 
curtains, rare inlaid furniture, collections of china of ex¬ 
quisite fineness, and many other valuable rarities; but 
the armory gave us the greatest pleasure, because of its 
novelty to us and its completeness. A modern semi- 
Italian, semi-English room looked over the prettiest part 
of the garden. It is Italian by its white-stuccoed internal 
walls covered with ornaments in relief, and English by its 
large plate-glass windows that take up three of the walls, 
and let in floods of light and warmth. Many other resi- 


126 


MI I ,DRF.D RUSSELL’S LETTERS. 

dences have features peculiar to themselves as these have, 
for Florence attracts by scores those persons who have 
money to indulge their special fancies, and time to devote 
to them. Mildred Russell. 


FLORENCE. 

Florence, February —, 1886. 

We continue to explore Florence with never flagging 
interest, and have even been up 480 steps to the top of 
x lt ± the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio, which holds 

A tali tower. 

the well-known bell “ Vacca/ 5 that has sounded 
through centuries on important occasions. Nearly 300 
feet above the ground we examined the prison where Sa¬ 
vonarola lay for fifteen days previous to his death. It is 
really only a cell built in the thick wall, and is about 
twelve feet long by five feet wide. It has a slit on the out¬ 
side for a window from which the prisoner could not look 
without his eye lighting on the church of Santa Croce, the 
stronghold of his priestly antagonists. Higher up we lose 
all thoughts of human suffering and hatred in the suprise 
that greets us. What a sight of the cathedral and campa 
nile we have from the top of this Vacca tower! When in 
the streets close down beside them, the bulk of the cathe¬ 
dral is so overwhelming that an attempt to grasp it, as a 
whole, ends in utter failure, and the campanile is so tall 
that it is a neck-breaking proceeding to try and look up at 
the top. Then, on the first acquaintance, the strong con¬ 
trast of the black, white, and red marble is apt to jar on 
the eye accustomed to Gothic evenness of color. But at 
this elevation all the symmetry and grace of form of the 
cathedral, and the calm, majestic beauty of the campanile, 



FLORENCE. 


127 


that for over five hundred years has stood unsurpassed, 
burst on us with a force of which we had never dreamed. 

Lasting impression. The minute details of carving and 

tracery can only be detected close to 
them, but the grandeur of outline and height, and the domi¬ 
nation they exercise over everything around is altogether 
lost, and can only be seen from above. Below one feels 
everything is too much crowded together; the houses are 
too near and too high, and it is not till one has been up to 
this elevated spot that the magnificent thoughts that 
created these beautiful forms can be appreciated. And 
when they are appreciated they keep such a hold on 
one that little else, for days after, has power to draw the 
mind away from the remembrance. We looked away a 
moment at the river, Santa Maria Novella and other cam¬ 
paniles, but soon turned back to the sight that kept us 
spell bound. Going down we held our breath, and forgot 
to give even a thought to the tragic person who had ex¬ 
cited our curiosity and wonder on the way up. 

A propitiatory service and procession took place in the 
Cathedral late one Sunday afternoon. The high altar, 
which stands under the dome, was draped with gold and 
silver tissues, and at the time of the service a temporary 
barrier was put up from pillar to pillar in the nave, so as to 
enclose a wide central space, to which this imposing reredos 
formed the closing part. Candles innumerable shone on 
the tissues and created a blaze of light. For an hour be¬ 
fore the service, the spectators began to assemble and 
waited with astonishing patience. First, the priests gath¬ 
ered by the altar, and then the misericordia , five hundred 
in number, ana each with a lighted candle, came out of 
the sacristy two-and-two, crossed the choir, and walked on 
each side of the barrier in the nave. Shrouded in white 


128 


mildred russell’s letters. 



from head to foot, with only spaces cut in their garments 
for the eyes to see through, these men were not to be dis¬ 
tinguished from each other. One led a little boy of five 
years old, carrying a candle, who, though the only child 
in the procession, did not seem the least afraid amid this 
troop of several hundred ghostly-looking beings. After 
the misericordia came the priests in their most gorgeous 
robes, then a superior under a baldachin of gold-colored 
brocade, supported by four acolytes, and last of all came 
about twenty men in plain clothes. They walked round the 
cathedral chanting a verse of a psalm alternately with the 
people. The service was held as a sort of revival to en¬ 
deavor to lessen the blasphemous and treacherous language 
towards the Church. Many people came to see the pro¬ 
cession from religious feelings, but many also from curiosity, 
and precautions were taken against any disturbance by 
having police scattered through the crowd. Just as the 
ceremony began, and the chief priest was standing in front 
of the altar surrounded by the others, and the first of the 
misericordia filing through the choir, the stray dog, inevita¬ 
ble in every church or cathedral in Italy, came down the 
centre of the nave. The attendants, whose duty it was to 
keep order, tried to catch him in a furtive way, but had to 
give it up, and so he wandered about till he was hidden 
by the thickening procession. No objection seems to be 
made to dogs or cats being in a sacred edifice in Italy; 
they seldom annoy any one, and as a rule are obedient to 
their owners and stay by them. 'These domestic animals 
give a home-like look to the churches, and it is almost 
needless to say, that the dogs belong to the poorer classes 
of the worshippers, and the cats are denizens of the place. 

1 he longer the stay made in Florence, the more fasci¬ 
nating it is, and as the short winter passes away, the bad 


FROM FLORENCE TO MILAN AND STUTTGART. I 29 

days are fewer and the superb ones increase. Days of 
cloudless blue sky, and a bright pure sunshine that brings 
out incredible colors and tints from every stone, and brick, 
and drop of water, and a marvellous gradation of shadows, 
show some of the happy influences that have helped the 
Florentines to build up their city. 

Mildred Russell. 


FROM FLORENCE TO MILAN AND STUTT¬ 
GART. 

Stuttgart, March , 1886. 

We left Florence on a damp, rainy morning, so that 
our journey through and across the Appenines to Pistoja 
and Bologna did not permit us to see the country to the best 
advantage; and as we went on, the dullness of the day in¬ 
creased. However, many of the ravines and smaller valleys 
afforded us lovely peeps of scenery and of distant villages on 
the mountain-sides. Half an hour after leaving Pistoja, 
we crossed the watershed of the Adriatic and Tyrrhenian 
seas, an event we soon discovered, as the brooks ran in 
the opposite direction. Then we reached the highest 
p flnt of the railway, two thousand and twenty four feet 
above the level of the sea, and in an hour were at Bo¬ 
logna, to which the slightly-leaning campanile and the 
odd-looking towers of the many churches gave a charac¬ 
teristic appearance. 

After we left Bologna, the aspect of the country changed 
completely, for we had entered on the great Lombardy 
plain, though not as yet into Lombardy proper. Miles 
and miles of well-cultivated flat land, in many places laid 
out in squares or oblong patches, surrounded by narrow 


130 mildred russell’s letters. 

runlets edged with trees. A wide range of crops is said to 
be grown on them, but, being winter, we saw only grass, 
vines, and various kinds of trees. The heaviest sky 
weighed down over everything like a pall, and our sight of 
this part of Italy strongly resembled the English fens, ex¬ 
cept for the forest-like thickness of the numerous trees 
around the divisions of the land. The temperature was 
not low, but the air had that shivery feeling peculiar to 
Italv when the sun does not shine. 

We passed through the historic towns of 

Historic towns. 

Modena, Parma, and Piacenza, all truly 
Italian, and with graceful campaniles and domes, and 
castles that once were threatening. Parma was decidedly 
the most beautiful, and, even under the grimmest of skies, 
stood out as a true daughter of the South. On arriving 
in Milan, we could not fail to remark one difference be¬ 
tween the people of that town and the southern Italians. 
Perhaps it was owing to its being miserable weather; but 
at any rate there was very little lounging about the streets 
in Milan in the enjoyable, easy way that is frequent in 
Florence and the Riviera towns. 

The Milanese are, as a rule, well off, owing to the situ¬ 
ation of their city,—in the centre of a fertile district,—and 
are less dependant on outside influences than most other 
nhabitants in Italy. 

One morning we went to see Leonardo 

Leonardo’s *• Last . 

Supper.” da Vincis painting of the “Last Supper.” 

It was much less effaced and dim than I 
expected to see it, though I must own it is much dam¬ 
aged, and many pieces of it have peeled off. We had 
a good deal of curiosity beforehand as to what we should 
think of this much-talked-of, battered picture when we 
saw it We entered the empty, high, barn-like room, 


FROM FLORENCE TO MILAN AND STUTTGART. 13I 

about sixty feet long by twenty wide, and on one end of it 
we saw the picture. No wonder people rave over its 
depth and power. The Christ is in the middle of the 
long table, and faces the spectator, and is a representative 
or embodiment of the majesty of humanity that has lived 
face to face with the Divine, and verges on it Yet it is 
all human—human in its vast sympathy, and sorrow, and 
suffering, and bitter regret for the evil that others will 
insist on doing. Judas has risen from the table, and, 
with his face close to that of Christ, is asking his question 
eagerly and anxiously, as if to find out if he were already 
detected. The contrast of his face of low cunning and 
greed with that of the Christ is sickening. 

The other discipless express various degrees of astonish¬ 
ment and horror at the idea of a traitor being among 
them. St. John, quite a young man, is almost fainting 
with emotion, while St. Peter’s indignation is intense. I 
suppose it is both the most sublime and the most tragic 
picture that ever was painted, and comes nearer to one of 
the great acted tragedies than any other, by reason of its 
dramatic strength. This picture has been painted over, 
and touched up and cleaned, so that it is but a faint sha¬ 
dow of what it was originally. Still it has the nameless 
power inherent in true greatness that never leaves what it 
has once ennobled. 

Afterwards we took a drive through the 

Public gardens. . , , , 

public gardens, along the broad road devoted 
to carriages. Considering the time of the year, and the 
wretchedly dull day, there were a good many people out. 
The equipages were in fine style, and gave us another evi¬ 
dence of the wellbeing of the Milanese. 

Our first and last visits were paid to the cathe- 
Cathediai. w hi c h is, after all, the one object that dis- 


132 mildred russell’s letters. 

tinguishes Milan from other towns in the eyes of the ma¬ 
jority of travellers. All acknowledge that it is worthy of 
its fame, not so much because it ranks in size next to 
St. Peter’s, Rome, and the Cathedral of Seville, but be¬ 
cause of the quantity of fine sculpture, and its grand effect 
as a whole. No transition from one style of architecture 
to another can be greater than passing from the daily 
sight of St Maria del Hore, at Florence, to Santa Maria, 
of Milan. The latter is Gothic of the highest period of 
development, and is covered with pinnacles and statues, 
and it is even said that inside and out there are seven 
thousand of the latter. Most sight-seers go up the tower 
and walk about the roof of the cathedral to see some of 
the fairy-like tracery, the ninety-eight turrets, and the two 
thousand statues with which the outside is ornamented. 

We went up the winding stone steps inside 

The great tower. . r r r 1 

the great tower as far as the first part of the 
roof, then we walked about it. The flying or arched but¬ 
tresses that support the clerestory of the nave have but 
small space between them, and their sloping ridges are 
edged with pointed Gothic carving, resembling lace-work. 
This gives the most delicate and graceful effect, and, seen 
from a side view, reminded us of a hill-side in spring cov¬ 
ered with young pine trees, and seemed almost as if 
swayed by a gentle wind. We next ascended inside a 
turret of Gothic sculpture, with many statues on it, to the 
highest part of the roof, getting on the way repeated views 
of this wondrous scene of chiselled marble. This upper 
part of the roof is often utilized as a pic-nic ground on 
fete days. At the time we were there, workmen were put¬ 
ting up scaffolding in order to complete one of the turrets. 
We went up the highest above the roof, and had a view of 
Milan. 'There is hardly a limit to what is said can be 


from Florence to Milan and Stuttgart. 


*33 

seen on a clear day from this, the highest, point except the 
cross heid by the statue of the Virgin. Our day was 
hopelessly cloudy and grim, so we could see nothing 
beyond the town; but we were told Mont Blanc, the 
St. Gothard, and many other peaks were within range, 
as well as nearly all Lombardy, under favorable circum¬ 
stances. Whether little or much of the distant landscape 
is seen after climbing four hundred and ninety-four steps, 
I believe no equal sight of marble ornamentation can be 
had anywhere else. 

The whiteness of the marble contributes to the beauty 
of the whole, and is a contrast to the darkness of the stone 
of most Gothic cathedrals. The interior is fine, but it 
cannot vie in uniqueness of interest with the exterior. It 
has four rows of high columns, with capitals formed of 
statues in separate niches. 'Three enormous modern 
stained-glass windows occupy nearly the whole of the east¬ 
ern apse, and look like a transparent jewelled background 
from the west. 'They are made in 365 compartments a 
foot and a half square, and are principally copies of old 
pictures. The underground chapel of St. Carlo Borromeo, 
one of the chief saints of Milan, is covered with reliefs in 
gilded bronze, and one of the sacristies has many solid 
silver ecclesiastical objects, including statues of saints and 
bishops, some valuable enamels, and a golden pyx. A 
bronze tree-shaped candelabrum, ten feet high, set with 
precious stones, stands in the north transept, and bronze 
statues forming a monument to two of the Medici family 
are in the south. A queer statue of St. Bartholomew is 
also in the south transept. It represents the saint Hayed 
alive and holding his skin rolled up over his shoulder 
As an anatomical study it is considered excellent, but it is 
somewhat out of place. The enormous fayade of the ca- 


i34 mildrzd russell’s letters. 

thedral is marred by having renaissance doors and other 
features in the Gothic plan. It overlooks a piazza or 
square of considerable size in which, at the carnival, a three¬ 
tiered building is erected for balls and other amusements. 
Coming fresh up from the South to the true Gothic archi¬ 
tecture once more, we were struck with the lack of repose 
in the effect it produces, compared with the Greek and re¬ 
naissance buildings. There seems something akin to per¬ 
petual restlessness and endless aspirations in the number¬ 
less pinnacles, small towers, and statues with which Milan 
Cathedral is decorated. It is as if the men who designed 
it must have been continually hoping for something higher, 
and so coyld never take the real, calm satisfaction and en¬ 
joyment in their work, that the renaissance men did in 
theirs. It may be they were more religious and less artis¬ 
tic. 

Before starting on our journey northward by the St. 
Gothard tunnel we had an idea that we ran the risk of be¬ 
ing frozen to death in attempting such a feat in the middle 
of winter. We left Milan as we had found it, under the 
gloomiest of skies and very much as if several inches of 
snow were about to fall, but by the time we had reached 
„ the Lake of Como we were in a land of a much 

Como. 

more genial type. The town of Como is romanti¬ 
cally situated on the lake, and is extremely beautiful. From 
here on, till we approached the Lake of Lucerne, we had a 
succession of magnificent views. We had also a nearly 
cloudless sky and bright sun, so that we were at times too* 
warm. The high peaks of the mountains stood out clearly 
above the wild gorges and sunny valleys, and here and 
there towns dropped down in favorable spots. Lugano,, 
close on the lake of the same name, has a mild-winter cli¬ 
mate, as we could tell by the vegetation. Seen from the 


From Florence to milan and Stuttgart. 135 

railway, it is truly poetical and dreamy looking, a sort of 
spot where tired-out persons would delight to pitch their 
tents, if, indeed, they did not prefer to have nothing be¬ 
tween them and such lovely skies and mountains. After 
Lugano the railway descends, and before Bellinzona, 
passes under the Castle of Loizzo, situated picturesquely 
on the top of an elevation dominating the surrounding- 
country. This castle is one of three that in former times 
kept guard over this spot, which was considered the 
most important between Lombardy and Germany. The 
valley of the Ticino is beautiful, and also fertile, and in 
many places has grapevines and chestnut-trees. The most 
interesting part of our journey now began, and combined 
the curiosity of the construction of the railroad with the 
high, snow-covered mountains, their valleys and gorges 
bright with sparkling waterfalls. 

At Goschenen we stayed twenty*minutes for luncheon, 
and then went forward, and still had most beautiful views. 
This line has innumerable bridges and viaducts spanning 
gorges and valleys, thus affording an unimpeded view in 
many places on both sides, which fair weather and sun¬ 
shine enabled us, luckily, to see well. 

After we reached Amsteg, about twenty miles from 
Goschenen, the beauty of the day was gone, and we did 
not see the sun again until we left Switzerland. As we 
went down lower towards Luzerne, the sky was heavier 
and heavier, and had a most depressing effect on our 
spirits, and made us feel as if we had come down from the 
Elysian fields into the shades below. Luzerne itself was 
in the deepest winter garb, and nothing was visible but 
the town and the lake, not even the speck of a shadow of 

a mountain. The hotels were deserted, the shops 

^jllZ6ril6 * 

closed, and the famous “Lion of Luzerne,” sculp- 


i3 6 


mildred russell's letters. 


tured by Thorwaldsen, in remembrance of the bravery of 
the Swiss guard of the Tuileries in 1792, was covered up 
with matting. Few people who have seen Luzerne at its 
best in summer can imagine what a transformation it 
undergoes in winter. Instead of an outlook whose beauty 
defies description, and the changing light on mountain top 
and on the quivering lake aglow with color, there was no¬ 
thing but dull, lifeless water, and beyond an absolute 
blank. The heavy, foggy, freezing atmosphere clasped us 
tight, and left us no power—even for shivering. We were 
told Luzerne is for weeks like this, and only on rare occa¬ 
sions at this time of year is the sun visible. We came to 
the conclusion that a similar land must have given rise to 
all the German ideas of a long sleep and a grand awaken¬ 
ing that come out in their stories. When we left Luzerne, 
on our way to Schaffhausen, the aspect of the country was 
just the same, and nothing was visible above a slight eleva¬ 
tion from the ground. There was no ice on the Lake of 
Luzerne, but many of the small pieces of water in the 
neighborhood and along the railway were frozen hard and 
covered with skaters. 

Soon after we left Schaffhausen the natural sky came 
back, and on our arrival at Stuttgart we found a spell of 
remarkably pleasant weather, which made us believe spring 
was at hand, and fully reconciled us to coming north so 
early. Mildred Russell. 


FROM HEIDELBERG TO COLOGNE. 


137 


FROM HEIDELBERG TO COLOGNE. 

Cologne, April , 1886. 

On arriving at Heidelberg, we rushed off at once to see 
the celebrated castle. It is a satisfactory 

A satisfactory ruin. . . 

sort of rum, as one might say, in many re¬ 
spects, and enough is left to give a really clear idea to the 
most unimaginative mind of its past magnificence as a pal¬ 
ace, as well as its strength as a fortress. It is one of the 
places that greatly surpass expectation, and its history 
must be a mine of romance and poetry for those who have 
time to explore it thoroughly. 

We had always understood that the castle was on a hill, 
but the exact kind of a hill was never adequately repre¬ 
sented to us. It is almost perpendicular, the part on which 
the castle stands being a hundred metres above the Neckar. 
The walking-up path is very steep, and as the inquirer is 
told the castle is quite close to the hotel,—as, indeed, he 
can see for himself,—he starts up the ascent vigorously, 
but has to take breath long before he has sighted the top. 
This steep ascent is made up the side on which the fortifi¬ 
cations were, so that there is nothing especially to be seen 
until the first terrace is reached, when the beauty of the 
scenery comes in. Passing in and out, under archways 
and past walls of mediaeval thickness, we arrive at the main 
court, around which the principal buildings stand, and at 
once comprehend the Germans’ pride in the remnants of 
the greatest renaissance palace in their country. Very en¬ 
thusiastic Germans declare it to be the greatest re?iaissance 
building north of the Alps; at any rate, it must have been 
a grand palace at its best. 

The several buildings forming the castle are of different 


138 mildred russell’s letters. 

periods of architecture, ranging from 1296 to 1620, and 
were erected according to the needs of the reigning elector, 
joined to the possession of adequate funds. These sepa¬ 
rate wings, thus built at periods spreading over three hun¬ 
dred years, form an irregular palace, but nothing in them 
jars the harmony uniting the early, simple, yet grand and 
massive Gothic style with the elegance of the high renais¬ 
sance and the elaborately decorated rococo. 

Frederick V. paid great attention to the gardens and 
grounds around the castle, and planted many rare trees in 
them. At present they are laid out in terraced and slop¬ 
ing walks, open at all times to the public, and are usually 
a much-appreciated resort. 

Heidelberg is a romantic and imposing ruin, near enough 
to modern times in the plan of its construction to take 
strong hold on the sympathies of to-day. It has not the 
incomprehensibility about it that the Roman ruins have; 
for, if restored to its entirety, it might serve perfectly well 
for the wants of a prince and his suite of to-day. It is situ¬ 
ated in a lovely country, and the Neckar flows so close be¬ 
neath it, that it only leaves a narrow strip of ground, on 
which the town stretches itself along. In perilous days the 
citizens shared the fate of the lords of the castle, and were 
driven out homeless during the Orleans War, at the end of 
the seventeenth century. All the castles along the Rhine 
shared the same fate as Heidelberg. As far as they are 
concerned, it is probably a good thing, because they were 
so near to each other that the temptation to fight continu¬ 
ously was irresistible. 

The interesting points of history connected with the 
Rhine towns begin with their foundation by the Romans, 
and pass through their conversion to Christianity and their 
progress in modern learning. 


FROM HEIDELBURG TO COLOGNE. 139 

From Heidelberg we went to the cities of Speyer, Worms, 
and Mainz, to see the three cathedrals that are typical of 
the beauty that the Romanesque, or round-arched style, 
which preceded the Gothic in the north, can attain. The 
cathedrals have been more or less restored in their original 
style, and are extremely interesting; but the towns, though 
rebuilt, have little but their associations to attract foreigners. 

From Mainz we made an interesting ex- 

The castled Rhine. . , . 0 

pedition on a steamboat down the Rhine as 
far as Cologne. The accommodation on the boat was not 
what the least exacting would call good. It was just bear¬ 
able; but, as it lasted only seven hours, we agreed not to 
groan too much over it. Every step of the ground along 
our route is of historical or legendary note, some incidents 
dating from remote times, but some being of decidedly 
modern invention and growth. The whole length of the 
Rhine is historic, but this stretch may be said to have his¬ 
tory built into it; for the many dilapidated castles that 
still crowd thickly on each other along both banks have 
centuries of warlike deeds to relate, and, like the odor of 
roses in the minstrel’s vase, they remain to give more than 
a faint inkling of what went on in times past. These cas¬ 
tles were built at an epoch when foes were accustomed to 
grapple at close quarters, and the short distance between 
these strongholds is very striking in these days of long 
shots. I should not wonder if the next generation of 
sight-seers take to believing the castles have been set up as 
imaginary historic objects, suitable to attract the admira¬ 
tion of gullible tourists. Fancy seeing your deadliest enemy 
every day only just outside of bow-shot,—you must natur¬ 
ally wish to use him for a target. It was scarcely likely the 
neighboring castles were on terms of friendship for more 
than twenty-four hours at once, from the look of things; 


140 


mildred russell’s letters. 


for all sacrifice everything to defence and resisting-povver. 
Many of the castles have been restored, and there is a 
strange fascination about them which is enhanced by their 
following each other in quick succession. 

Mildred Russell. 


COLOGNE TO AMSTERDAM. 

Amsterdam, April , 1886. 

At Cologne we left the Rhine boat, and found we had 
arrived in a town that complained less than those M r e 
had left of having suffered from devastation at the hands 
of the French two hundred years ago; still, it claims 
to have been the victim of a certain amount of vandalism 
in the past. “Bones” and the cathedral, however, are 
the most cherished possessions of the town, and absorb its 
deepest affections. As to the former, the outsider wonders 
what can be the use of hoarding them up; but as to the 
latter, there can only be unfeigned admiration. The ca¬ 
thedral is pure Gothic, and therefore entirely different in 
style from the three we saw lately at Speyer, Worms, and 
Mainz. 

Its greatest beauty is, perhaps, the towers of the west 
facade, which rise tapering from the ground, and become 
imperceptibly slighter as they ascend to over four hun¬ 
dred feet. This gradual tapering is much increased in 
delicacy of effect by innumerable little pinnacles that 
spring up all round and give a certain airiness to it. Seen 
from the square the whole facade is very beautiful. The 
pillars in the interior are slight in comparison with their 
height, and their number, fifty-six, is less striking than the 
imposing extent of space they stand in. This cathedral 
has many works of art in . 



COLOGNE TO AMSTERDAM. 


141 


The Church of St. Ursula is said to contain the bones 
of seven thousand out of the eleven thousand maidens 
who were martyred with this British Princess, and the 
walls are lined with them, holes being made in the plaster 
to show how regularly they are piled up and their indispu¬ 
table abundance. The legend of St. Ursula has afforded 
many of the old artists a theme, and in the museum here, 
as well as in Italy, are series of pictures recording various 
episodes in her life. 

Many other churches of supreme interest in architecture 
are in Cologne, and are well worthy of a study. That 
dedicated to St. Gereon and his Theban legion is of 
mixed Romanesque and Gothic, and is said to have owed 
its foundation to Helena, the mother of Constantine. In 
the crypt is a Mosaic floor of the tenth century lately re¬ 
paired, a,nd thought to have been originally the work of 
Italians. 

The body of the church is decorated with coffins and 
more bones of the martyrs, and the choir, with the skulls 
placed under gilded arabesque ornaments, which is a re¬ 
pulsive and profane sight, though meant to be deeply re¬ 
ligious. Cologne is a busy, thriving town now, and all 
over it reminiscences of past importance crop up, the 
museum having paintings and sculptures that illustrate its 
long history. Many objects contemporary with the Ro¬ 
man domination are shown; altars to Jupiter and other 
gods, a fine Mosaic floor, with the busts of Greek philoso¬ 
phers and poets on it, a really beautiful piece of work; 
and an excellent collection of early German paintings. 

We left the region of the Rhine at Cologne. Taking a 
southwesterly direction, we went by train to Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle, an old town that existed in pre-Roman times. 
Under the Romans themselves it was a celebrated watering 


12 





142 


mildred russell’s letters. 


place. Remnants of their baths have been discovered, 
and people still go to it to drink the sulphur waters abun • 
dant at various temperatures. The hotels have the usual 
appearance of those fitted up for pleasure and health- 
seekers, and attractive gardens and grounds are to be 
found both in and out of the town. 

After leaving Aix-la-Chapelle, we went through the 
prettiest part of Belgium, and stayed at Liege a few days. 

From Liege we started for Amsterdam, and soon came 
to the flat country characteristic of Holland, and at Bois- 
le-Duc we saw the marshes so flooded that the town 
looked like an island. The next place of mark was 
Utrecht, and soon afterwards we reached Amsterdam. 

Mildred Russell. 


AMSTERDAM TO ANTWERP. 

Antwerp, April , 1887. 

Our tour through Holland gave us a good deal of plea¬ 
sure, as well as some vexation. The hotels are more ex¬ 
pensive, when what is had is taken into consideration, than 
any others with which we had made acquaintance in the 
parts of Europe we had visited, and the small sums of 
money continually given for slight services rendered have 
to be double those given elsewhere. Fortunately, Holland 
is very small; so the traveller’s annoyances do not last 
long, and the country is so different from others that the 
novelty of the sights keeps him from dwelling long on dis¬ 
agreeable things. ' The flatness of Holland is one of its 
most striking features, the dykes that keep the sea out be¬ 
ing scarcely discernible in the landscape. 



AMSTERDAM TO ANTWERP. 


*43 


Amsterdam, the chief port and seat of trade, 

Amsterdam. . 

is a large and wealthy town, and is built entirely 
on piles driven into the soil, the unstable nature of the sur¬ 
face rendering this proceeding necessary. 

The streets run each side of the canals, and in many in¬ 
stances are bordered with trees, so that houses and trees 
and ships are mixed up together in all kinds of unexpected 
ways. Amsterdam itself is somewhat like a northern Ven¬ 
ice - that is to say, the canals intersect the city at every 
point; but the strong, practical, methodical North is every¬ 
where obtrusive, and the likeness to the graceful, careless, 
charming South is but momentary. The most character¬ 
istic costumes of the women are only seen out of the cities, 
but the quaint head-dresses of white muslin, attached to 
the head with twirling gold pins, are common at every 
turn. The latter always look perfectly fresh, and as if just 
out of the hands of the laundress; and this astonished us 
in such a damp climate. 

The churches are fairly good in point of design, but the 
interiors are so choked up with high pews that it is scarcely 
possible to see across them, and the exterior walls are 
almost hidden by the houses that are built up against them. 

For centuries the Dutch have been noted for 
chanties. t ^ e j r c h ar itable institutions, especially for those 

for the bringing up and education of the young. One 
Sunday we saw several charity schools in church Some 
of the girls wore scarlet dresses, black aprons and tippets, 
and white caps that fitted the head closely; others had 
black dresses, with scarlet and white aprons and white 
caps. The girls wore the caps instead of bonnets, and re¬ 
minded us of the heroines in the play, “The Orphans.” 

Amsterdam is remarkably clean, as, indeed, most of the 
Dutch towns are, though whether the end justifies the ex- 


144 


mildred russell’s letters. 


cess of the means, I hesitate to say. The whole of Hol¬ 
land, when we were there, was being thoroughly cleansed, 
inside and out, with mops and brooms and scrubbing- 
brushes, paint-pots, ladders, and every conceivable article 
that could be pressed into the service. The hotels, side¬ 
walks, picture-galleries, churches, in fact everything, was 
being cleaned, and every corner and staircase and doorway 
that could afford a refuge for house-cleaning implements 
was cluttered up with them, so that it was very difficult to 
escape them, and very easy for the heedless to tumble over 
them. Cleaning claims a right of precedence almost royal. 
In some picture-galleries the copyist crowds out the sight¬ 
seer, but in Holland it is the cleaner, who, with a long- 
handled brush, drives him backwards and forwards as he 
gives an added polish to the already spotlessly clean and 
dangerously slippery floor. 

t Dutch art, consisting principally of easel pic¬ 
tures, portraits predominating, is as distinctive as 
Italian, and fully repays the trouble and expense of a tour 
to see it in its native country. It would be impossible for 
any one to say, with justice, that the best Dutch portraits 
are far inferior in merit of execution to the Italian ones, 
but they are certainly inferior in beauty, especially in the 
women. There is either a severe seriousness in them, or 
else a rollicking dash about them that prevents them rising 
in effect to the level of the graceful and high-bred Italian 
ones. Innumerable landscapes reproduce the peculiar 
charm of the Dutch sky and atmosphere and quiet coun¬ 
try life. 

The finest picture in the National Museum in Amster¬ 
dam is “The Night Watch,” by Rembrandt. It represents 
a captain of arquebusiers and his men leaving the corpora¬ 
tion house, and has all Rembrandt’s strong effects of light 



AMSTERDAM TO ANTWERP. I4C 

* 

and shade without exaggeration. Amsterdam was Rem¬ 
brandt s birthplace, and also his home for many years, and 
here his best portraits are to be seen—viz., “Burgomaster 
Six and his Mother,” still in possession of descendants of 
the family, for whom they were painted. 

It is difficult to realize how small Holland is till one 
travels through it. 

Haarlem, the next town we visited, is but a few 

SiiRrioiii 

minutes from Amsterdam by rail, and has a de¬ 
cided stamp of its own. It is also a trading city, though 
much less busy than Amsterdam. It has pleasant parks 
and drives, and houses with every conceivable kind of gable 
in the old-fashioned streets and along the canals. The 
organ in the cathedral is one of the most celebrated in 
Europe, and is very powerful. We heard a symphony 
played on it that brought out the vox Humana remarkably 
well. 

Franz Hals, a contemporary of Rembrandt, whose fame 
rests on his portraits of men, was a native of Haarlem, and 
his best works, consisting ol several large groups of military 
officers and men, are still in the town hall. The individual 
characters and expressions are wonderfully brought out, 
and the dash and spirit of the scenes well rendeied. No 
one can doubt that these sets of friends and companions 
are equally ready for fighting or revelling at a moment’s 

notice. 

# # 

Our next stopping-place was The Hague, the capital, 
though not the largest town, of Holland, a charming place 
of medium size. It has a central park, of moderate dimen¬ 
sions, and, outside the town, woods and drives of consider¬ 
able extent Many of the canals are bordered with fine 
trees, and the public buildings are distinctive in character. 
A double square, resembling two courts, is surrounded by 




mildred russell’s letters. 


146 

houses, where many of the important events in Dutch his¬ 
tory have taken place, and such a look of the past clings 
round them still that one can easily conjure up the 
scenes. Scheveningen, a sea-side resort within two miles 
of The Hague, and connected with it by means of a tram¬ 
way, has a wide, sandy beach and good hotels, a casino and 
restaurants, where the residents of The Hague go in crowds 
on warm summer evenings. 

The museum contains many fine paintings, and is an ex¬ 
cellent collection for the study of Dutch art, as it embraces 
examples of most of the well-known painters. The two 
pictures with the widest spread fame are the “Anatomy 
Lesson” of Rembrandt and the cattle piece of Paul Potter, 
though it is, perhaps, hardly fair to class them together. 

In the “ Anatomy Lesson,” the professor is demonstrat¬ 
ing to the seven other surgeons around him the anatomy 
of the arm. The picture is really a group of portraits of a 
stall' of surgeons, and was painted for their corporation 
hall. The faces of the men are remarkably intelligent, 
and there is an absence of everything repulsive that is usu¬ 
ally prominent in copies of this picture. The living men 
are evidently intent, in thoughtful fashion, on the scientific 
work, and the poor dead one is stretched out, and looks as 
if he were, even bodily, removed worlds away from the fel¬ 
low mortals round him. One can hardly imagine a stronger 
picture of the difference between the presence and absence 
of the soul, and of how absolutely a mere husk the body is 
after the soul has left it. In the same gallery are number 
less interiors, reproducing Dutch life in the inn or the cot¬ 
tage home, many landscapes and portraits. The two wives 
of Rubens—Isabella Brandt and Llelen Fourmont—are 
handsome women, and more refined in their actual portraits 


AMSTERDAM TO ANTWERP. 


147 

than in many of the pictures where they were ceaselessly 
introduced by their husband. 

After leaving The Hague on our way south, we 

Delft. . . 7 

spent a few hours in seeing the town of Delft, once 
celebrated for its china. Now it is a bright, picturesque 
town, where canals and lazy sail-boats, masts, rigging, gabled 
houses and windmills combine and dissolve and re-arrange 
themselves into all kinds of grouping suitable for painting. 
There is no need for painters to study composition here; 
every turn seems to bring up something ready to begin on. 

Rotterdam, our next stopping-place, has a decidedly 
bourgeois and thriving appearance, the houses being large 
and solid, and the public buildings substantial. It is 
second only to Amsterdam as a port. The town itself 
is decidedly more prosaic to the eyes of the traveller than 
most other Dutch towns. Here the canal-bordered streets 
lose their attractiveness, and the ships, crowded together, 
need the sea-breezes to make them anything else but a 
mass of inert-looking wood and ropes We were glad to 
get away to Dordtrecht, where we arrived an hour before 
sundown, and found an “American” circus had congre¬ 
gated the country people on the open space near the sta¬ 
tion. It was not an animated crowd, but all in a phleg¬ 
matic sort of way seemed to be having a good time. 

On reaching our hotel in the town, about a 
Captivating m ji e _ an d_ a _half distant, we had an opportunity 

landscape. 

of seeing a Dutch landscape that fairly capti¬ 
vated us, and that was an exact counterpart of many pic¬ 
tures we had seen. A flood of light turned the green 
marshes into gold, that spread far away to the distant hori¬ 
zon, and was bordered by a slight ridge of trees and houses 
that had dwindled down to an irregular line. The river 
Merwede, respectably broad at this point, was studded with 


148 


mildred russell’s letters. 


small, ideally sluggish sails, and a group of more pretentious 
craft was anchored below our windows, and formed inextri¬ 
cable clusters of masts and rigging. 'Then the ubiquitous 
windmill, with defiant, restless arms popping up behind the 
low, red-tiled gabled roofs and motionless trees; and the 
Dutch atmosphere round it all—the deep blue of the sky 
and the silvery whiteness of the fleecy clouds. We thought 
this same atmosphere much more agreeable to look at 
than to breathe; for through all our stay in Holland, it 
went through us like a double edged saw, that lacked every 
artistic or pleasurable element. Dordtrecht is a continued 
succession of picturesque bits, and seems as if it had been 
growing and developing for years in that direction. In 
some spots the houses go straight down into the canals, 
and cast various reflections on the water with a force 
suggestive of Venetian coloring. 

There is more repose at Dordtrecht than 

A sleepy town. 

in any northern town we saw, but it was ra¬ 
ther the repose of sleepiness and sluggishness than of 
southern enjoyment. The milk-women carried their huge, 
shining brass and copper jars with the solemnity of a bib¬ 
lical print, and the sailors lounged away their leisure with 
an air of endurance that betokened a capability of going 
stoically through the worst evils that could meet them. 

The Dutch language is a nuisance to the traveller, be¬ 
cause he never gives a thought to it till he is in Holland. 

1 hen it sounds so much like German that he is deluded 
into believing that he may make German do duty for it. 
Sometimes he can, and sometimes he cannot; and under 
the latter circumstances he is apt to be exasperated. It 
seems a haphazard sort of arrangement, due to the close 
kinship of the two languages, which prevents them always 
agreeing on every point. The educated classes in Hoi- 


AMSTERDAM TO ANTWERP. 


149 


land are, in general, good linguists, for, as so few foreigners 
speak Dutch, it is an absolute necessity for them to learn 
other languages. 

Having succeeded in getting down stairs and out of our 
hotel, through pails and brooms and scrubbing-maids, we 
spent our last few hours in Dordtrecht wandering up and 
down and amusing ourselves in finding out subjects and 
objects for pictures that would fascinate other people if 
transferred to canvas, as the realities charmed us. Then 
we started by train, and arrived safely at Antwerp. 

Mildred Russell. 














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